Ah, lies, we all do it. We tell our kids to tell the truth and then take them to see a dozen old men disguised in a red suit during Christmas festivities, or tell them a tiny winged person comes into their room at night and gives them money for their baby tooth while they sleep! My slummy mummy trophy is well and truly cemented on to the mantle piece. Yes, I must admit that I’ve distorted the truth here and there but I now have a plan…
If my kids grow up to hate me for my well meant (but rather fabulous and elaborate) lies then I’ve thought ahead and set up a ‘sorry fund’. It’s basically a get out of jail card so my children know I wasn’t so bad after all, for them to see that I may have messed up but the truth is that I love them and was just doing my ruddy best even if it wasn’t perfect. …And If that all fails then I can use it to bribe them by threatening to donate all the money to a local cats charity if they even think about leaving me to rot in an old people’s home and deny me access to see my own grandchildren!

Hahaha, I wouldn’t really do any of that, I love my children, I’m just joking! (I’m not).

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