Liar liar pants on fire

I can’t begin to count the amount of times I lie to my children in a day. I lie from the first second I open my eyes ‘Mummy what time is it?’ Brain: 6:30am on Sunday. ‘It’s HALF PAST FOUR! Goodness me love, go back to bed!’ To the very last moment of the day. ‘Will you sit at the end of my bed?’ No. Not a chance, poppet. ‘Of course I will, just let me eat dinner with daddy first.’ Does this make me a terrible mother? Probably. I’m sure there are some saintly mums amongst you who explain things rationally and calmly and though it may take weeks and months, the right result will win through. Yep, that’s not me folks…

I know one day I’ll be found out, but I hope by that point they are old enough to realise I lied compulsively for (most of) the right reasons. Will the jab hurt mummy? Dear god yes. You’ll scream the place down and hate me for three days… It doesn’t seem better to me to do it this way!

Regular lies I tell my children:

Vegetables and crusts make your hair grow.

The four screws on the wall in the kitchen that we haven’t yet painted over, are cameras for Father Christmas to spy on the children.

Legally, you are only allowed to jump on beds in hotels.

I know everything.

I see everything.

I hear everything.

That every single one of my children hated, and spouted fizzy drinks out of their noses, on the one occasion they were allowed to try them (none of them have ever tried them).

That broccoli is food of the gods.

I never snack before tea.

I have only had one biscuit.

I was never mean to my sister when I was a child.

I hold my hands up – it’s truly shameful. My darling trusting children are being duped by their conniving mother…but come on. I need to pick my battles and get through the day as unscathed as possible. In my defence, I did learn these strategies from my own parents… And I turned out just fine. Right?… Hello? Mum? Dad?!

Anyone else joining the compulsive liar club? Give me your best…



  1. Bless me, for I have sinned. And plan to continue sinning until I’m well and truly busted. I sometimes (often) sneak licorice from the pantry when my kids aren’t looking. My son will then invariably smell it on my breath. I tell him it’s from my licorice tea. He believes me. I am a bad, bad mother.


  2. Of course you’re not a bad mother and of course you are our favourite child and yes of course we love you always – it is difficult to stop lying though isn’t it!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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