Lying to Your Children

A couple of days ago, my ex and I were standing in my yard when the ice cream truck went by, jangling out a barely-recognizable "Turkey in the Straw". We simultaneously turned to each other and said, "Ding Ding Truck."

You see, I pulled a fast one on my kids when they were young. When the inevitable ice cream truck roamed our neighborhood, like some bird of prey, ready to swoop down on innocent children with change in their pockets, I told a fib. My kids, barely toddlers, heard the ice cream truck one day and asked me, "What's that?"

I opened my mouth ready to reluctantly admit that that was a refrigerated truck which, for a fee, would give you ice cream bars or orange bomb-pops and most assuredly cavities and ruin your dinner. But what came out of my mouth was "That's the Ding Ding Truck. They know that sometimes people are sad so they drive around with a merry 'ding ding', cheering up sad people wherever they go."

Now here's where it gets really scary...they BOUGHT IT! I just knew when I told this big honkin' lie that they, being very intelligent children, would smell on the air the wafting aromas of refrigerant, cherry blasts and Eskimo pies and know that I had lied to them. But they didn't. THEY BELIEVED ME!

And so, dear Reader, I discovered a sad truth about parenting that had previously escaped me. Parents lie to their children. All the time. And mostly, they get away with it. At least for a few years. Like when you tell your kids about Santa Claus, well no...that's not a good example because it is to the kids' benefit to believe in Santa Claus.

Like about Santa Claus, even tho' it's a nice lie. "This won't hurt a bit" immediately tells the kid that, yes, it's going to hurt a lot. Like what you and Daddy are doing in the bedroom all by yourselves. A mountain of lies builds up by the time they become teenagers, which might explain why they don't have much use for us adults by then.

For almost a year, the "Ding Ding Truck" held sway, plying our neighborhood, bringing joy to sad people. Unfortunately, during the winter months, other children moved in across the street. Their parents hadn't been clued in about the "Ding Ding Truck". The following summer, my kids saw these children (whose parents were obviously NOT good parents) buying ice cream from that darned "Ding Ding Truck". The boys came running into the house, breathless with anticipation and barely able to speak. "Momma, (pant, pant) did you know that the "Ding Ding Truck" sells ice cream?!"
I played dumb. I slapped my hand on my cheek, acting all shocked. "No, I didn't."

"So Momma, can we have some money to go buy some ice cream?" I sighed with regret as I handed them each a dollar bill. Ah, Childhood's end.