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The Boy Who Cried Wolf... And Everything Else

Once upon a time there was a small girl who told a lot of far fetched stories. So much so, that her parents bought her 5 notebooks and pens and made her write her crazy tales down instead of blabbing fabrications to anyone with an ear.

That girl was me, and that "solution" of making me write was the spark that ignited my fire for writing. I'm thankful to my parents and my teacher who told them NOT to snub out my imagination, but to channel it instead.

 I clearly passed my big imagination down to Mino.

He's been lying.  

At school.  

At home.  

At granny's house.  

In the grocery store.

Telling far fetched tales of fantastic drama.  

He told his teacher his dad was moving out, and his best friend was moving in to be Mino's "new dad". My husband doesn't even have a "best friend" or friends at all that come to the house. 

Lies.

He told the front office he hadn't eaten in days.  

Big lies.

He said his brother ate all the frozen pancakes, then after Nelly had been punished, fessed up to having committed the crime.  

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

He told my sister a bruise he got from falling while playing came from an epic fight, which she clearly knew was a lie since she's been with us 24/7 for three weeks. 

Pinocchio, Jr. 

He's told some other crazier stories I won't share. Because that's how rumors get started! 

He also has an imaginary person named "Max" who can go from his BFF to ticking him off to epic proportions depending on the time of day.  

The stories range from plausible to impossible.  

Being a former "spinner" of the truth, I can completely sympathize with a mind so full of fantasy you just have to tell someone. Writing was truly my saving grace when I was his age and older. It still is!  My mind is like a 24 hour carnival. I get it, Mino.

But since he's still limited to writing his name and other sight words I can't just hand him pen and paper as my parents did.  

I've tried explaining the consequences of his fairy tales, which could range from his brother being unfairly chestized to him getting snatched out of the house for his fictional starvation and worse, but he continues to LIE! 

When I asked about his latest lie, which he told the entire class at school, he said, "Well, I needed something to say, mommy."  

Oy. This is CLEARLY going over his head.  

So I'm planning on some artistic therapy with Mino this weekend. We're going to paint and color and draw all the bursting imagery that's clearly overflowing in his mind. I understand all too well that a busy mind requires an outlet. 

And I owe my mom an apology for all the lies I told. Karma's memory is clearly better than an elephant's. 

Wish me luck!

...TO BE CONTINUED!

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