The dawn of deception

Saturdays are candy days here at Casa Core Dump—the one day of the week Andrea gets to eat candy and other sweets, including ice cream. We spend a lot of time working on the days of the week, making her understand what day it is.

Last Sunday I was hanging out with her while her mother was away taking care of some errands, and she asked me if she could have some ice cream. Sunday is not Saturday. So I told her no, she couldn’t have ice cream.

“Can I have ice cream, please?” she asked again.

“Is today Saturday?” I asked.

She shook her head, sadly, then brightened up. “Can I have ice cream, please? I won’t tell.” And then the biggest, most ingratiating smile I’ve ever seen.

“No, it’s not Saturday.”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”

“No.”

“I won’t teeeeeell.”

She didn’t get any ice cream, but where this whole I won’t tell thing came from, I have no idea. Told the people at day care about it, and they had no idea where it could have originated. I’d like to not believe them, but they’re good to her and I don’t think they’d tolerate that kind of thing.

At this point, the only theory that makes sense is that she came up with this by herself. That’s not a good harbinger for the teenage years…

OK, deep breaths.

**Soundtrack: **“Bring Down Like I” by Anna Ternheim