I’m big on telling the truth for several reasons — I don’t want to be a liar; I don’t want someone lying to me, and telling the truth is the right thing to do.
Teaching children to tell the truth is an important part of parenting (and grandparenting). But, as we all know, learning to tell the truth is accomplished by trial and error. We teach that telling the truth is good and telling a lie is bad.
Last week, my granddaughter, Evie, 4, had a lesson in lying. It started with candy.
It was after lunch when I told her she could choose two pieces of miniature chocolate candy bars. Her first choice was a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
“This really isn’t candy because it’s got peanut butter in it,” she told me. “It’s more of a healthy snack.”
She was trying, in her 4-year-old arguing skills, to convince me it didn’t count as one of the two pieces of candy she was allowed to eat — since it was “healthy.”
“Does it have chocolate on it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“It’s candy,” I said.
I watched her rummage through the bag selecting her second piece of candy. She chose a Twix and ate it on the spot.
About five minutes later, she said, “I’m going to get my second piece now.”
“How many have you had?” I asked, knowing good and well she’d had two.
She lifted one finger.
“You’ve just had one?” I asked. “I thought I saw you take two.”
Again, she held up one finger.
Mind you, she never said she’d had just one. She indicated it by holding up one finger. Technically, she may have thought it wasn’t a lie.
Ha. I’m on to her.
“OK, get another piece,” I told her, knowing she wasn’t telling me the truth but hoping she would come clean and not take the third piece.
I watched her stick her hand in the bag and toss the candy around. She flipped the bag from side to side. I noticed that she wasn’t looking at the candy. She was deep in thought.
“Is it OK if I just take my second one home for later?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said. “But you just ate one, right?”
She stared at me — a crocodile-sized tear falling down her cheek. She dropped the bag on the table and ran to me putting her head on my shoulder whispering, “I ate two pieces.”
Whew. Good girl. She told me the truth. She had to work her way to telling me the truth, but she did.
I hugged her and told her I was proud that she told the truth. I didn’t let her have a third piece of candy, and she didn’t ask for it, either.
It was just a small but character-building lesson. And she came out on top.
At 4 years old, she thought about what she had done and ended up telling the truth. She didn’t get more candy, but she did get praise.
I saw the pride on her face. She was proud of herself for telling the truth. So was I.
Contact Karen Nazor Hill at khill@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6396.