I try and make it a rule to not lie to my kids.
Ok that’s a lie straight away, I tell plenty of fibs when it suits me. For example this morning I told twin boy the Easter Bunny had texted me from his I phone and was about to remove one of his easter eggs from his basket if he didn’t sit and eat his breakfast nicely. However as we all know lying always trips you up and this was the case when twin boy suddenly leapt from his chair whooping with glee shouting;
“I am getting a basket of eggs, so that means more than one!”
Personally I blame the school for teaching him maths.
So I lie for my own benefit and to keep dreams alive.
Santa is real, fairies live amongst the weeds in our garden and yes your face will get stuck that way if the wind changes…
But I try and maintain as much honesty as possible for most things, which is bloody hard work. Take this mornings conversation for example.
Twin boy: “mummy was God the first person in the world?”
Me; “um, sort of well some believe he made the world.”
Twin boy: “what do you believe mummy?”
Me: “I’m not sure darling, I am going to wait and see.”
Twin boy: “but mummy who gave God a special kiss so he could have Jesus?”
Me: “well some believe God invented people so he didn’t need a special kiss.”
Twin boy: “so did God push Jesus out his bottom like Aunty Violet did baby ben?”
Me, faltering: “no Jesus was born to Mary and Joseph who God made.”
Twin Boy: “is God real”
Me, blasphemous: “Dear lord, I am not sure, some think he does others think the world was created by a big bang.”
Really I should just lie, a five year old doesn’t need to know my agnostics beliefs. The worms are out if the can and crawling everywhere!
Twin Boy, panicking “but mummy if God isn’t real, what about heaven? And if there is no heaven and no God then Jesus didn’t die on the cross and come back as a zombie like Daniel said. And if there is no God, no zombie Jesus, no cave for him to hide in and no Easter then there is no Easter bunny and *loudly* no chocolate eggs.”
At this point twin boy turns the colour of beetroot and his lip starts to quiver at the thought of Thornton’s shutting up shop when word gets out that the story of Easter may or may not be true.
Wearily I turn and cuddle my little boy;
“Its ok, God is real darling, Easter is still on.”
I see relief flood over him, a happy child once more.
“But mummy, how did zombie Jesus have two dads? Did they do special kisses? Can boys marry….”