Liar Liar!

We caught my son in a big lie. It was such an unfathomable lie that we felt uncomfortable even bringing it up. But there I was, feeling my face getting hot, trying my best to stay calm, and saying through clenched teeth for the third time, “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need to tell me?”.

 

I know my son is a good kid and for the most part quite truthful, so it was difficult for me to understand why he was so stuck in this moment. My husband and I approached the issue calmly (despite my heated instincts) and we gave him several opportunities to tell the truth. We explained that everyone makes mistakes – even big ones – and how much we value honesty above all else. We reminded him how actions have consequences and that the consequences will always be more severe if lying is involved. I was really hoping my son would come clean so we could deal with the problem and move on.

 

But there he was, bold-face lying to us, with his fists tightened, his voice raised, and tears flowing down his face. We all knew he was lying – even HE knew – yet he stuck to his story, insistent that he was telling the truth. He was so convincing that for a moment, we really wanted to believe him.

 

The stalemate was broken with an early bedtime and time to think – for all of us. He went to bed sobbing, and we sat on the couch confused by the confrontation. Both the lying and the deed were very much out of character for him. Did he fear the consequences of his actions so much that he just blocked it out of his mind? Did guilt consume him to the point of denial? Did we miss a crucial parenting window on truth telling? Will he need therapy after this? Will WE? We were so perplexed by it all and were unsure of what to do next.

 

Early the next morning, my puffy-eyed son came into our bedroom and confessed to it all. He tried to explain why he lied, but couldn’t, saying only that he didn’t know how to stop himself. We didn’t press further, hugged him tight, and just thanked him for his honesty. We came up with an appropriate consequence together and put it all behind us.

 

As I reflect on this, I think my own need to resolve and move on quickly may have clouded my judgement. My son really needed the extra time to process the situation and review the emotionally heavy conversations we had. And we were all able to deal with the issues more rationally the next day. Wait time and thinking time helped us out so I hope to remember this lesson the next time a heated moment bubbles up.

 

Frank Emanuele is a proud father of two boys, a special education teacher, and a director of Dad Club London.