Just a little white lie...

Yesterday I blogged about the brutal honesty of children, which is a little ironic, considering that as parents, we are often not very honest with our children. Well, don’t let me lump you into that ‘lying sack of doody’ category… let’s just say that, I, personally, am not always completely honest with my children.

I firmly believe that you can be too honest with kids. A little mystery is good. For example when my oldest asked me how the baby got in my tummy when I was pregnant with the youngest, I gave her as honest an answer as I could... “Jesus did it, honey.” Seriously, no 4 year old needs THAT much information.

However, not all of my evasive, only borderline truth answers are a result of uncomfortable questions I’m not ready to face. Sometimes they are borne of necessity… and an inability to find a matching pair of socks.

This morning, I searched in vain for socks for Davis. Socks, socks, everywhere, but not a single pair for the boy could be found. And he had to wear socks because 1.) he had Wellness today (P.E. to everyone else in the civilized world) and 2.) It was actually quite cool this morning, and sandals or flip-flops were not going to cut it. (Yay! Fall in Texas… gotta love it!)

And actually, the drama of the missing socks is not because I haven’t done the laundry… I’m a bit of a laundry schedule freak. If it is a Tuesday, Thursday, or Sunday, the washing machine is running. (Hear that? Yep… it’s Thursday).

The lack of socks is proof positive that we’re leaving on vacation tomorrow. I have packed so many pairs of socks and underwear that it’s a wonder my kids actually have any on right now. You can never take too many socks and underwear on vacation… who knows what sort of ‘undies emergency’ you might run up against when you’re away from home? And if you do know, I don’t want to hear about it. I’ll just plan to be prepared, without hearing your gruesome stories, thank you very much.

So everything is packed, and short of raiding my neatly sorted piles of clothes that are already loaded in individual Zip-loc ‘Big Bags’ labeled for each day of our vacation (I KNOW! I KNOW! I’m a freak… please know that I DO know this, and that I genuinely cannot help it), my only option is to give Davis a pair of Josie’s socks to wear. No big deal, right? I can just explain the situation to him… the socks, being packed for Disneyworld, his mother’s OCD, etc.

Clearly you have not met my kid…. “Mr. Black and White”… “Mr. Future Litigator Because I Can Argue till We’re Both Blue in the Face”… “Mr. I’d Rather Cut Off My Own Feet Than Wear My Sister’s Socks To School”…

So, here’s the scene at our breakfast table this morning…

Davis: “Whose socks are these?”

Me: “Um… they’re yours.”

Davis: “I don’t think so.”

Me: “Yeah, they’re new ones I bought for you to grow into.”

Davis: “They’re short.”

Me: “They’re a new style. You’ll like them.”

Davis (suspiciously): “Why do they have pink writing on the toes? Are they for girls?”

Me: “Nope. Pink is the best color for the brand name (in this case, Hanes) to show up on white socks. Didn’t you know that? So no, they’re not for girls. Anyway, no one will see the writing because it will be inside your shoe.”

Davis: “Did it say ‘for boys’ on the package?”

Me (pretending to think back): “Um. Yes. Yes, it did.”

Josie: “Heeeey! Why is Davis putting on my socks?!!”

Crap.

Note to self: When telling your child a little white lie, do it out of earshot of his sisters. And be prepared to find his flip-flops for him to wear to school.