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  • Honesty

    March 24, 2006

    It has been cold here in North Texas this past week, so Sean and I paid a visit to “Old MacDonald’s” as he calls it, to take advantage of their indoor play yard in an effort to burn off some toddler energy somewhere other than in my den.When we got back to the car to head home, I strapped him in his seat and handed him what was left of his iced tea. As we drove off, he immediately began to shake the cup like he was making a martini. Even though it was a cup with a lid and a straw and there wasn’t much left in it, I decided that mixing drinks in my backseat was not that great of an idea and I asked him to stop. So he stopped. For about a nanosecond. Then he started vigorously shaking it again. So I reached into the back seat and took the drink away.

    “Mommy took my tea away!” he cried with indignation.
    “Sean,” I said, “Since you can’t stop shaking the drink like I asked, I have to take it away from you.”
    “Please Mommy, I want my tea!”
    “Are you going to keep shaking it?”
    “I might.”

    I applauded his honesty, but I kept the tea.Flash back to 1965. I’m five-years-old and my mother and I are on a train going from California to Illinois. I was small for my age and my mom wanted to pass me off as a four-year-old to avoid paying for a seat for me, so she told me that if anyone on the train asked me how old I was, to tell them that I was four. Sure enough the conductor asks me how old I was, so I told him, “I’m four when I’m on the train but I’ll be five again when I get off.”

    I doubt my mother was applauding my honesty at that moment.

    I did not ever learn to fudge the truth well enough to play poker or even to convince a nun that the dog ate my homework or an officer that I didn’t see the posted speed. At some point, Sean will learn to lie, but I hope he’s like me and not very good at it.

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