It’s funny, really. If I ask him a question that he doesn’t want me to know the answer to he will lie.
“Did you poop?”
He’ll look around, thinking about it and make the connection that if he says “yes” he’ll have to pause his life and have his diaper changed. “No! No poopie!” he says as he runs away from me.
Little does he know that I know when he lies. Not only does he choose to lie about things that are just so obvious (um, poopy diaper? Can’t hide that!), he also isn’t very good at it. The long pause gives him away every time. Or sometimes it’s the very, very, insistent head nodding accompanying the lie.
“Did you make a mess?” What a stupid question to ask, but somehow I find those words spitting out of my mouth on a regular basis.
His eyes dart to the mess, he walks somewhere else and promptly and enthusiastically tells me “no!”
When he disappears for more than a few seconds and I can’t hear him, I know something bad is happening. While I typically put up a gate keeping him out of the kitchen, sometimes I forget. He’ll make his way into the kitchen, and when he reappears with kitchen utensils I know he’s about to lie.
“Were you in the kitchen?” “No!”
“Did you go into the utensil drawer?” “No!”
“Are you currently holding a salad utensil?” “NOOO!”
He can’t fool me.