Liar, Liar, Floss on Fire

Despite being an impressively easy kid, Graham has developed something of a history with dental drama.  For years, he was so tight-lipped that I couldn't see into his mouth, let alone sufficiently clean his teeth. But last fall, a playground accident forced him to get over his reservations and have his two bottom teeth yanked from his jaw.



With all of that drama behind us, I was looking forward to Graham having an uneventful trip to the dentist on Tuesday.  And for once, it was, as long as you don't count an emergency poopy diaper as drama.

I don't.  Not after three kids.

With Graham's cleaning done and a cavity-free report from the dentist, we were almost out the door when the hygienist commented that we were doing a good job with our twice weekly flossing. 

Twice weekly?  Unless there was a time-space continuum disruption between my house and the dentist's office, there had been a misunderstanding.

I was afraid something like this would happen, though.  A few years ago when Graham told a hygienist that he didn't know what toothpaste was, I learned that, under dental pressure, Graham has a very selective memory.  So as we flossed before his appointment on Tuesday, I made sure to remind him that we had been flossing consistently for quite some time.

The version he shared was a little different.  His version also included a story about me paying him to clean our toilets.

Houston, we have a lying problem.

All of a sudden, strange things I had heard over the last couple of weeks, whose origin I had questioned, started to make more sense.

"Did you really tell Graham he could eat 560 M&Ms?"

"Mom, Graham did NOT run eleven miles during recess today."

"So, Graham threw up in someone's shoe?"

It seems that my middle son has found a way to stand out.  But two can play the lying game, so I started affirming all of his statements.

"Yep, Cael, he ate 560 M&Ms and that's why he threw up in the shoe.  But you were confused about the running.  He hasn't run the eleven miles yet, he has to run them now.  Get your shoes on, Graham!"

Here's hoping that in the future, Graham can remain a bit more tight-lipped when he feels a lie coming on.

In the dentist's office only, though.  It would be awfully hard to eat those M&Ms.