You Can't Handle The Truth

I spoke to my sister today, comparing holiday notes. We got to talking about kids, as she has two young ones and my 6-year-old nephew had been with us for Thanksgiving. We discussed how kids always tell the truth.  My sister's husband frequently says that having children keeps him humble, as they are only all too eager to point out flaws or inconsistencies.

"I know what you mean," I told my sister. "At the table on Thanksgiving, Blair and I sat down with my nephew and my sister-in-law. My nephew looked around the table at everyone's plate before declaring (quite loudly), 'Aunt Dena has the most!'"

My sister burst out laughing. Since that amused her so much, I also shared with her the joke L. (my nephew) had made up. He's in that bad "I'll create my own joke phase" where he'll say things like, "Why did the peanut cross the road... to get to the cow!" And you're left standing there like, "Uh-huh. Funny."

So he'd been telling a few of these lame jokes and then he said, "Why did Uncle Blair kiss Aunt Dena?" And we all said, "I don't know. Why?" And he said, "I don't know either!!" It was actually quite funny.

I had L. help me make the pumpkin pie on Wednesday night. Since he'd helped make it, we thought he would want to eat it but he kept saying no. Finally we coaxed him into taking one small bite. His face immediately contorted and I knew what was coming.

"GROSS!" he said, sticking his tongue in and out as if hoping the air would cleanse it.

"Just say, 'Thank you, I don't care for any more,'" coached his mom.

"ACK!" said L., reaching for his water with one hand while clutching his throat with the other.  "Argh...blech, blech, blech."  Retching sounds commenced.

I do miss being that age and the honesty that comes with it. Honesty, but perhaps a lack of observation skills.

Anyone seated at that table could have told you that Uncle Blair had much more food than me.