I snickered to myself when my son, Ben, shared a story pertaining to my favorite granddaughter. Yesterday, she told her Mom that the roof at her house had caught on fire. Her Mom believed the story. Of course, there wasn’t a fire… if there had been a fire, her Mom would’ve certainly been informed. But when Ben confronted Coco, now 6 years-old, and asked why she told the lie she had the perfect response. The story she told wasn’t really a lie — it was just her imagination.
I guess that’s why my own Mom feels ok about her response when she’s asked about her age. It’s not really a LIE if it’s just your imagination. Happy **insert imaginary year here** birthday, Mom. You are awesome no matter how old you claim to be.