You're going where, now?

The other day, Lloyd put on his gas mask and his battle gear for some training at work. Inspired by his bizarre appearance, or suffering from a lack of oxygen, he told the boys that he was going to Venus to meet with the Planet Heroes and needed the get-up so he could breathe there.

Weston, not an easy sell, peppered him with questions about how he was going to withstand the heat, fire and lava on Venus. Lloyd convinced him that his outfit was suitable for visiting the hottest planet in the solar system, whereupon Weston requested some Venus rocks. Lloyd headed off to work and I had to field the questions all day:

Will Dazzle be there? Will Daddy bring me some pink Venus rocks? Is he going to all the planets, or just Venus?

Now, the whole time, I was clenching my jaw to keep my mouth shut because I have a major aversion to lying to my children. I guess I can live with Lloyd doing it for 'fun', because I can tolerate our parenting differences, but I am unwilling to be an accomplice. This stance of mine has gotten me soundly mocked for years. You would think I would learn my lesson and just shut up about it, but I've never been shy about sharing all my ridiculous ideas and hare-brained schemes. I got to thinking about it after I got an extra helping of ridicule from my old nemesis, Facebook, when I posted about it.

I got all the same responses I normally get when I mention my discomfort with lying. The most common one is, 'But what about Santa?' Because Lloyd does not share my unease with filling our childrens' head with falsehoods, my Santa policy is one of compromise. I don't mind Santa 'stories', and my answer to all the questions is, 'What do you think?' Then, whatever the answer is, I say, 'You might be right,' 'Maybe so', or 'Hmmmm'. So far this has worked well, so you don't need to worry about Weston telling your kid on the playground that Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are evil-minded inventions perpetrated by a society bent on controlling and manipulating the vulnerable minds of children for its own benefit not real.

Now, just let me reiterate up front that I said I do not believe in lying to MY children. You mess up your kids your way, I'll mess up mine my way, m'kay? I could post some links to sites that discuss the disadvantages to lying to your kids, even about Santa and the Easter Bunny, but that's not really my point.

My point is this: I post things all the time about my less than stellar parenting skills. I talk about how they eat butter and coffee for breakfast, snack on flour, wear the same clothes for days, and bathe with dishes. Not once has anyone criticized me in any way for any of those things, but as soon as I take on betrayal disguised as a fictional fat man in a red suit Santa, I'm Satan in capri pants and sensible sandals. And while we're talking about Satan, have you ever noticed that Satan and Santa are anagrams of one another? Coincidence? I think not. I'm not very smart so maybe that's why I can't figure out why feeding a kid caffeine and animal fat (they were both organic, I swear!) in place of the most important meal of the day is okay, but telling him the truth is not. I'm open to enlightenment, so fill me in, if you please. And maybe next time Lloyd feels like taking a long journey, he can head up to the North Pole and kick some jolly red ass.

And, if you haven't voted in the poll in the upper right, please read this post, then vote. I'm formulating a theory and I need a few more data points, not that I'm opposed to making up my theory out of nothing at all. I don't mind lying exaggerating to YOU, after all.