Jon has learned to lie. Every kid lies, I knew he would get around to it. It's just very weird the first time you catch your kid in a lie. Like a real lie, when they know what they're saying isn't true.
So we've been having talks about what the truth means and what a lie is and why it's not nice to tell lies. Which of course compels Jon to quiz everybody on what they are saying to him.
"Is that the troof?"
He sometimes forgets that he's one of the little people and that he really shouldn't be giving people the eyebrow wrinkle and asking if they're lying. Mostly he just does it to me. Probably because I deserve it because I told a big fat lie about ice cream once.
"Jon, did you just swallow all that toothpaste?"
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Jon, did you eat three boxes of raisins behind the recliner?"
"Is that the truth?"
One morning we were having breakfast and Jon asked for more sausage, which we were out of.
"Mom, can I have more sausage?"Jon asked.
"We don't have anymore, they're all in your tummy."
"Mom, tell me the troof: Can I have more sausage?"Chin goes down, eyebrows wrinkle.
"No, all the sausage is gone. You ate it." I could tell this wasn't going to end without having to use the Loud Mom Voice.
"MOM. I know there is sausage in here."
"NO. Really there isn't ANY sausage in this house. You ate all the sausage! Look,the pan is empty!"
"MOM! TELL THE TROOF!"
And, having all the preachy troof talk I could take from a three year old at 7 o'clock in the morning, I shouted:
"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"
Which completely stumped him into silence.
OK, maybe my kitchen isn't quite as high-drama as say, a military court room, but sometimes we all need to tap in to our inner Colonel Jessup to get our point across.