The Lover and the Liar

Coming off of an afternoon celebration of hearing Clara count to ten, an achievement I've been waiting for in vain since rarely does Clara choose to speak more than two words in a row--or is it that she just never has the opportunity to speak more? So today, after finding a small cache of hidden Easter candy in a basket in the garage (garage? Yes, garage. It was in the basket on the shelf after a mad dash from the kitchen cabinet without anyone seeing. Hey, so far it's made it farther than that bag of Halloween candy still sitting high up on a shelf) and noticing Clara was extreeeeeemely quiet, she brought her treasure over to me. Greta decided to play Candy Store with it, and Clara went along for the ride, but I was so excited to listen to her counting her pieces of candy. (Author's note: I am pleased to say that no candy was eaten and no temper tantrums were had in accordance with this parental decision, although that pack of Smarties almost drove me to violate my own proclamation.)

After Chris was home he was in the backyard barbecuing, and Greta was watering the grass -- and immediately labeled herself Supervisor, a role she makes sure she is in whenever it seems like an activity might need supervising. Chris called me outside, and told Greta to tell me what she had just said. Grinning sheepishly and with doe eyes, she calmly announced in her nearing-5-year old voice that her very best friend at school has now asked Greta to marry him. "And", she went on with the leveled voice of legal announcement, "he was serious." Cue big grin. Chris told her to make sure James came to talk to him, and I told her to ask for a big ring. (Nothing like teaching values to today's youth, huh.) So, evidently Chris and I better just forget about ever saving for our retirement, hopefully we can get her through college before she walks down the aisle.

Now on to the lying. Could it be that my baby , is taking innocence and giving it a swift kick in the pants? Kicking, funny I choose to use that. Exactly the point of this story. In the bathtub the other night, the girls were playing. Not together, just splashing about doing their own pre-scrub thing. Clara had been saying something a few times, but I really wasn't sure what it was. Until, it finally came through clear to me. "Honey kick me". "Greta kicked you?" I asked between smiles of 3 COMPLETE words...in a row...coming from my little bird's mouth. "Uh-huh, Honey kick me." Nearly completely appalled for being blamed for an atrocity both she and I know did not happen, Greta didn't let this one go untouched. After calming the rough seas on one side of the tub, the other side was still fervently repeating her exclamation. Interesting, I thought as my parental hamster spun wildly on its wheel. Clearly a lie, as I was sitting here engaged with both girls in the tub. Did Clara feel something and THINK this happened, is this a bold-faced lie? What to do now? I remember from my Developmental Psychology classes (two of my favorite classes in school) the nature vs. nurture debate, and is behvior learned or acquired. By now, I feel completely comfortable saying that, as far as I have witnessed, lying is a self-preservation technique developed very very early on. I will save the essay I could produce for another time, but am just simply verifying the fact that nothing I have done would have taught my baby to lie like this. Her sister? Well, I'm quite sure that along with a few other less than desirable attributes, this might be something she picked up along the way. So look out if you're anywhre near Clara, you never know what you may be accused of.