Throne of Lies.

The other day, I posted about a bad, bad thing that I did to Mini-Me. I’m sure it was no big deal, but I felt badly about my bad, bad thing. I deceived my child, for my benefit nonetheless. In my guilt of deceiving my precious angel, I wrote the bad, bad thing post as an admission/confession. Mini-Me doesn’t regularly read my blog, especially on her own accord. At least by writing and posting about it, she may stumble upon it one day, and we will laugh and laugh and laugh. One day.

Less than 24 hours later from the day I wrote/posted about my bad, bad thing, the day of reckoning was upon us.  This is how it went down:

I was so proud of myself for slipping the rejection letter in the mail pile. Mini-Me was none the wiser. I placed all the day’s mail in a conspicuous place on the kitchen table with the rejection letter on top. It couldn’t have been more obvious even if I displayed blinking neon signs around it. All I have to do is wait for Mini-Me to find the mail. My bad, bad thing is nearly over. WHEW!

Later that evening, when I returned home from errands, Mini-Me stated, matter-of-factly, “Well, I didn’t get into such-and-such school.” Ready to start the water works, tenderly I replied, “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay?” “Of course! I didn’t want to go there anyway,” she quipped.


I hemmed and hawed and fretted and sweated and even cried that:

  1. Mini-Me didn’t get in to the college of my choice;
  2. that I deceived her for nothing;
  3. my heart felt sad that she was rejected. She’s amazing! What kind of jerks reject her?!?; and
  4. that she apparently wants to get as far away from me as possible!

It pangs me that I was in such agony for withholding this information and she doesn’t even care about the rejection! A mother’s worry for naught!

The following day, Mini-Me texted me, “You sit on a throne of lies.”

How am I supposed to reply to that? She’s right. Did she read my post? Does she know I deceived her or is she talking about something else I’ve done. Goodness! Does she know that I ate the last of her popcorn? Does she know that I went to Chick-fil-a without her? Surely, she’s referring to the post. Right? Regardless, I can’t let her talk to me like that. She’s probably just joking with me, but I have to be the law. I’m the mom, that’s what I do.

Naturally, I reply to her boldness. I think it worked. Don’t you?