Sunday, March 08, 2009

Lies, Leprechauns, and the Luck O the Irish

It's wrong to lie to children. I do it anyway. Not because I am mean and nasty (though I am), nor even because it's fun (though it is). I do it because it is a fine family tradition and I am all about carrying on traditions. This Saint Patrick's Day, for instance, one of my favorites came to mind.


Hostess makes this wonder called a Snoball.

The regular Hostess featured color is either white or bright, shocking pink. But several times a year they issue holiday colors. For Halloween they do orange. For Easter a deep orchid color.

And for Saint Patrick's Day, the grand-daddy of all awesomeness: THE GREEN SNOBALL.




I don't like sharing my green snoballs. It's not that I'm selfish (though I am) or that I begrudge my nephews, godchildren, and beloved friends' bra-- err-- basta--- err-- cherubs some of my snack (though I do). It's that... these are special.

These are chocolatey goodness, marshmallow yummihood, and creamy centered nirvana covered in bright, kelly green coconut.

I mean, these are special.

So when my nephew's adorable face appeared at the edge of the dining room table, zeroing in on my green fluffy balls, I lied.



Having removed them from their packaging, and placing them into generic ziplocs, I made no attempt to hide them. The conversation went thusly:

Cherub 1: Ca-I hava snoball?

Me: Those aren't snoballs, honey.

Cherub 1: Them's snoballs. Green ones.

Me: I know they look like them, but they aren't, honey.

Cherub 1: Whadaredey?

Me: Leprechaun poop.

Cherub 1(joined, now, by Cherub 2): Lepru-kawnpoop?

Me: Yep.

Cherubs 1 and 2: Noooooooooooo-oooooooooooooooh they aren't!

Me: They are.

Cherub 2: Whydyoo hab dem?

Me: Remember how Papa explained that some mushrooms are yummy to eat but others are poisonous and make you sick?

Cherubs 1 and 2: Uh huh.

Me: Leprechauns leave their poop along hedges. They grow to poisonous mushrooms, to help protect the little places in the stone walls where they hide their gold. If you eat these you'll get very sick.

Cherub 1: Very sick?

Cherub 2: Sick?

Me: Yes. Very sick.

Cherub 2 (who will, someday, be a lawyer): Why don' you frow dem away, den?

Me (sighing): Because they get annoyed and steal your shoes if you do that.

Cherub 1: Thaz why you nebber haz your shoes an' can't findem?

Me: I confess, yes. I once threw away some leprechaun poop and they plague me, still.

Cherub 2 (disgusted): Can we jus have oreos, den?

Me: Yes.

Cherub 1: But not the dubble-stuff kin'.

Me: Correct.

Cherub 2: Cuz dose make your feet stink if yer liddle.

Me: Exactly.

Cherub 1: Thaz why daddy's feet stink.

Me (handing out mini-oreos, which I dislike, and pushing the double stuffs, which I do like, back behind the toaster): Run along, cherubs.

*Sigh* Family traditions. Makes me tear up, really. My oldest brother was in his early 20s when he finally figured out that those thistley things from the hedges were dried thistle heads... not porcupine eggs.

Good times... good times.

8 comments ]:[ Add your comment:

Lucy said...

I fully intend to be like Calvin's dad when I have children.

I will remember your evil techniques when my whippersnappers dare to approach the Cadbury Creme Eggs, which are laid by wicked children-kidnapping unicorns.

Leigh Royals said...

And robin's eggs are really robin's eggs. The robin mommy will peck your eyes ouch. *crunch*

KB Alan said...

I needed a good laugh, thank you! Hysterical. I don't know if I should be glad or bummed that my parents did not have that kind of imagination :D

Chrissy said...

Builds character.

Seeley deBorn said...

You know those tiny sweet pickles... gherkins? I was in my 20s and grocery shopping on my own before I figured out that they aren't seasonal and only available at Christmas.

Eva Gale said...

Omg, I am the same way with mine, and my whole family is. But lately when I say stuff like that I get these evil looks from people and I've been wondering is no one has a sense of humor.

When my brother was shorter than I was-long long ago- he sat at the table and asked how Mom and Dad got married. I told him that Dad hit Mom on the head with a club and dragged her into the cave. Brother's jaw dropped, eyes got big and he asked them, "Really?"

And my mother and Dad answered, "Yes."

It's that kind of stuff that makes having kids fun.

Marty said...

I've just started lying to children, and I can see I'll have to be more creative. I neglected to tell mine about daylight savings time, and had "no idea" why it was dark so early!

Maureen (otherwise known as Mama) said...

Yes, but it's really best to be an Auntie when lying to children. Otherwise you pay for therapy or bail -- "All my relationships fail because you lied to me about the snowballs" or "I'm a sociopath because I thought Oreo's made people's feet stink."

When you're an Auntie, you get the accolades -- "My Aunt was soooo cool; she used to tell me (fill in the blank)," followed by, "My Mother has no imagination."

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