My kids are terrible liars (and I am okay with that).

I don’t think I’ve mentioned our fantastic news and I can barely believe I breezed right past it, except there is muchly going on at Casa de Katie with all of the winding-down-of-the-school-year going on. Last week the girls got back their STAAR test results – you know, the state-mandated, pretty much useless standardized testing they took a little bit ago? The ones they have to pass to advance to the next grade? Well we got our results back. And I’m pleased to announce that it turns out my kids are a pair of smarty pants.

Now, we knew Gracie was going to kill it. She could ace her Gifted and Talented program in her sleep. So the state’s standardized tests? A cinch. Bee…I was a little worried about. Bee was barely passing some of her classes one minute, and then passing with a B the next. Rinse, repeat, bang your head against the wall. And again. And the practice tests went over so well that the school finally found room for Bee in their free tutoring program. (How convenient when their funding and records are on the line, right? Nevermind that I’ve been asking for years because Bee hates how she struggles.)

So the fact that Bee came thisclose to doing better, statistically speaking, than her sister? Well I was rather proud of her. And she was rather proud of herself. Finally, something solid for my baby to hold on to; something other than encouragement and a pat on the back from her mama, her dad, her teachers, from people already in her corner. This was an official test that says she was a rock star.

I thought that deserved a reward.

Enter Auntie Kim, who just happens to be in town. Kim had asked whether the girls’ dad and I would be okay with the girls staying home on Monday. They could run amok in the city without half the kids getting in the way. I thought it would be an excellent way to reward the childrens for doing so well. And their dad agreed. Except the girlies kind of missed that point. When Auntie Kim was scheming with them, teasing, she suggested to the girls that they might have “mysterious fevers” on Monday. Gracie caught on right away, but Bee was all “whyyyy?” about it.Sometimes I worry about that girl’s future as a spy, honestly.

Since I happened to be out of earshot at the time, the girls got it into their heads that I wasn’t to be let in on the plan. I have no idea why, but it tickled them to think they were colluding against me. Bee even left a note on Kim’s bed about something else entirely, and finished with a “P.S. I can pretend to be sike [sic]”. They were completely and irrevocably sold on this fooling mom thing.

So last night, after having spent all day out in the sun [HOORAY FOR SUNSHINE FINALLY GOD I LOVE THE SUN], Gracie downed some frozen coke and then complained that she was freezing. Auntie Kim mentioned (rather innocently) that Gracie had been cold the night before, too. Now, we all know it was because she had been out in the sun and then ate a bowl of frozen ice, but who am I to let an opportunity pass? I asked if she felt okay and then checked her forehead. “You feel a little warm,” I remarked…and Gracie’s eyes got big as saucers. I asked Bee to feel her forehead, too, and Bee’s eyes darted over to Auntie Kim so fast, an idiot would have known something was up. Of course I commented that her (completely cool) forehead was warm, too. God, I’m an awesome mom.

So the girls mumbled from time to time that they weren’t feeling good, and got all shifty eyed when I made them set out their school clothes for the next day, and didn’t even complain when I sent them to bed early because of school. Dead. Giveaway. Girls.

No one was surprised when they complained they didn’t feel good this morning when I woke them up (late, because I knew I wasn’t getting them ready). Everyone said their heads hurt and tummies ached. And then everyone was all giggly two seconds after my car door closed when Kim dropped me off at work.

Oh, those girls of mine. I’ll tell them the real reason they had their fun after it’s all said and done, but for now, I’m going to let them enjoy their moment and their horrible, terrible lies.

They certainly earned it.

Advertisements

Tags: , , ,

4 Responses to “My kids are terrible liars (and I am okay with that).”

  1. Kathy Says:

    Love it! I hope they have a blast with the super-awesome Auntie Kim. And how fun for them to think they pulled one over on you.

  2. Care Says:

    Good thing you didn’t psych them into thinking they actually truly didn’t feel good! (that would have been me as a kid, so guilty that I would have gotten sick TRYING to pretend to be sick…)
    Glad they had fun!

  3. Because she is important. | Can't Get There From Here Says:

    […] …But don't worry. There's a plan. A 10-year plan filled with bumps, hiccups, and plenty of adventures. « My kids are terrible liars (and I am okay with that). […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: