White lies like "Don't cross your eyes like that; they'll freeze that way." Or "Honey, no one is going to notice that (unspoken: HUGE) zit on your nose." Or "No, I don't know where your 3-foot stuffed yellow chick is," which is technically not a lie because I have no way of knowing what happened to it after I dropped it off at the Goodwill store.
This morning, Charlie's class was leading the all-school Mass. He had a short petition to read, so I wanted to make sure that he didn't arrive at the podium looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. I wet his hair down and combed it into a squeaky clean schoolboy style, parted on the side.
"Mom, don't do that!" Charlie protested. "I like it all brushed forward."
"But this is the new style," I insisted. "This is how Nick Jonas wears his hair."
"Mom, Nick Jonas has curly hair."
Now, why I didn't just admit I was wrong and let it go, I'm not sure. I think it had something to do with not wanting to be the mom who lets her kid go to church looking like a ragamuffin.
"You haven't seen his new hairstyle?" I asked with mock surprise. "They straightened his hair and combed it to the side. This is totally hip."
And voila! He didn't argue with me anymore. And I only felt slightly guilty when I overheard him telling his friend Kevin about Nick Jonas' new look.
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