Who’s the idiot who invented the ridiculous idea that kids don’t lie? They totally do.
When Klara realizes it’s bath time, she gives me a look of extreme suffering and tragic dispossession and says, “I’m hungry, Mommy. Tummy hurts. Hungry!” And she rubs the supposedly hungry tummy with a dejected look. The first couple of times, I bought it because toddlers don’t lie, right? and took her downstairs to eat. Of course, the moment we got there, it turned out that what she really wanted was, “Mommy, I go outside in the stroller! I go for a walk! I see Santa and snowman!”
Sometimes, she says, “I bumped my finger, Mommy. Kiss finger!” I kiss the finger, blow on it, she thinks about it, and offers me the other hand, “I bumped this finger also. Finger hurts! Kiss finger!” Then it turns out she pretend bumped her nose, her head, the monkey’s tooshie, the pencil, and everything else in sight.
Also, the question of “who threw the cookie on the floor? Did you throw the cookie?” is greeted with a very honestly and even indignantly delivered, “No, Mommy! I no throw cookie.”
At Klara’s dance lesson, there’s this tiny little boy called Teddy who always greets everybody with a very serious and convincing, “Hello. My name is Jordan (Madison / Jack / Monkey / Giraffe).” And every time his mother panicks and says, “Teddy! You know it’s not true! Your name is Teddy!” And the boy gives us a look that clearly means, “And whom are you going to believe, me or this weird lady?”