Square Peg ● Round Hole

HOME

ABOUT

BOOKS

BLOG

RESOURCES

CONTACT

There are moments that lying to your children is completely justified.  I mean, we lie about Santa Claus (if you are reading this and you still believed that a fat man in a red suit delivers free shit to your house, sorry to burst your bubble.).    Last night I told a fib.  When Bryce looked into the crockpot to see what was on the menu for dinner, he said, “great, mashed potatoes,”.    I just smiled.   You see, they weren’t mashed potatoes, but in the notion that if I told Bryce the truth, he would instantly be repulsed.

I have made no secret that I am on a health excursion.   Six weeks of eating differently, cranking up the exercise, along with lots of non-scale wins, has created a space where I am grateful for this vessel even though it isn’t as easy to maintain as it used to be.   So, I have introduced some new items into the mix that have been warmly received because they are clueless.   Sometimes you simply need to lead them.   Telling them would require that they have an opinion, and I truly don’t want their input.    Last night, I served mashed cauliflower that was blended with sour cream, butter, and some delightful cheese.  This concoction was much lower in calories than regular mashed potatoes and I figured that I didn’t need to divulge any information until they had at least tried it.    The first words out of Bryce’s mouth was, “What did you do to the potatoes?”.   Of course, I replied “nothing” because I didn’t do anything to the potatoes because they aren’t potatoes.  Brian and Bailey were shoveling them into their mouths while Bryce was still pondering.   In fact, Bryce’s face contorted itself to the point he looked as if he were in pain, so I came clean.   He was disgusted with me and the cauliflower.   I laughed and laughed.    At least three out of four of us found the concoction delightful.  Then I decided to have fun with him.   “Bryce, what if you meet a girl and she comes from a family of cauliflower farmers?   Will you be more open to this type of vegetable then?”    He rolls his eyes because I do this to him every time he is disgusted with something.     He hates U of L, so I will say things like, “what if you meet a girl and she loves U of L?”.    He doesn’t exactly love my humor, but I find myself very entertaining.

Lying is bad, but for the greater good of nourishing those I love, I find it a useful tool.    Being a mother takes some craftiness and creativity.   You have to use the element of surprise along with creative storytelling otherwise you are simply an amateur.