My three-year-old, goddess love ‘im, is a compulsive liar.
Yes, I know there is no lying before about age seven. I know kids tell their version of the truth for a variety of reasons, most of which is wishful thinking.
But I have never met a toddler who does it like this kid.
Him: Mommy, I want a keekoo.
(He still makes me want to kiss his face off with the speaking backwards. Keekoo=kookee. Cookie.)
Me: Let’s eat breakfast now and have a cookie with lunch.
H: Noooooooooo! Daddy say keekoo now.
Right. I’m sure Daddy told you that cookies are fine at 6:45 a.m. But I’m gonna override him on this one.
When I tell him it’s time to wash hands, he climbs onto the counter and into the sink and tells me that Daddy says that’s the way to wash hands.
When I hand him a cup of water and he pours it all over the floor, I remind him that water is for drinking. Water on the floor is a mess and people fall down. He then reminds me that, with all due respect to the towel I’m handing him for the cleanup, “Daddy say pour, pour, pour, leave right there, no touch.”
Fine. If Daddy says you should pour water all over the floor, leave it, and not touch it, why then you go find Daddy and he can help you clean.
“Oh, pumpkin, did you fall? Oh I’m sorry. You slipped because there was water on the floor. How did that get there?”
“Daddy do dat.”
He’s probably waiting for me to make Daddy clean it up, but I know what will happen if I do. Daddy’ll blame the cat.