The Batteries Have Run Out: Lies We Tell Our Kids

Actually, I had nothing on Geppeto

“Actually, Geppetto’s nose is way bigger than mine”.

I am a parent and, therefore, a serial liar.

One of the less-appreciated side effects of teaching children to talk is that they’ll inevitably use their new skills to put their parents on the spot, with a perfectly innocent request-from-hell.

In my child-free days I used to think that you should just tell a child no and that’s the end of it. Ha! Young fool…

‘No’ is never the end of anything on planet Toddler. ‘No’ is always the start of something; something that either ends in tears, or in the words ‘maybe later’ (essentially a ‘no’ with a built-in tantrum-delayer). Actually, I think our eldest secretly loves it when we tell her no. It just gives her the chance to ask again. And again.

I’m rambling. My point is, a child will repeatedly make you an offer that you can’t refuse, unless you lie your way out of it. Sorry, that should read ‘steer young expectations’…

So now it is agreed that some low-level fibbery is essential if you’re to raise your kids without going completely insane, here’s my list of favourite mini pork pies. Feel free to confess more…

  • I think the batteries have run out, sweetheart.
  • No, we can’t get any more batteries until tomorrow.
  • I’ve got no coins left for the Postman Pat ride.
  • He only brings presents for good girls
  • When you hear that, it means they’ve run out of ice cream
  • Little Brown Mouse [a cuddly toy] wanted to stay at Grandma Mair’s house a little longer.
  • Little Brown Mouse has gone on holiday. We don’t know when he’ll be back
  • I think it’s just sleeping.
  • Hurry up and wash your hands, or Daddy has to eat all the fish fingers
  • Right now, Peppa Pig is putting her pyjamas on.