Skip to main content

I Lied to my 6 year old.

It was time to leave the house but there was stiff resistance. There wasn't kicking and screaming, but there was pleading, dragging of feet, and most of all, excuses. And that wasn't from the kids. It was me - their dad.


Grady desperately wanted to go to the McDonald's playground because it was indoors. I promised him the day before we would go. It always seems do-able when you don't have to go until tomorrow.

It's really a suitable outing for a tired dad. The kids can get some food and the three are self-sufficient on the playground. I could just sit there with an iced coffee. Did I mention I could sit? That's a huge win for me.

But it was a school day, which meant the older two had homework. The main part of my afternoon routine is that the homework gets done first. Everything else may fall by the wayside, but that homework sure as heck will get done right away. I don't want Aimee coming home after a long day to kids pinned to a table. I'd rather them have fun with their mom.

The problem with going to McDonald's at this point is that we are already home. The "going back out" is the thorn in my side - not on all days, but on this day. See, I was freaking tired. It was Tuesday and Tuesdays are my worst days.

I wake up at 3 AM. Waking up isn't an issue, regardless of time. No one likes the alarm going off, but you just go. It's later in the day that it catches up with me and no day is worse than Tuesday. Mondays, I still have the lingering rest and momentum from the weekend but Tuesdays - the 3 AM wake-up call comes roaring back. It's 5 PM and I could fall asleep right on the kitchen floor. 

I don't want to go. I don't want to go back out. I'd kick and scream if I thought it would work. There is no way we're going to McDonald's.

I lie. I lie to my 6-year-old.

"Not today, buddy. We will go another day, I promise." And we will. I am not cruel. I always remember to do what I said I'd do. Just not today.

The lie? Oh, it isn't outrageous because my kids are smarter than me. I am not pulling the "McDonald's is closed" routine. But I stress it suddenly doesn't fit in. The day got out of hand and I tell him I want him to have "a lot of time" on the playground and if we went now, it would only be "for a short time". I make my case. 

He knows me, so he knows it isn't happening.

I just want to sit for a second.

I promise, buddy, we will go to the McDonald's playground later this week.



Please subscribe for more Hangry Dad: Click Here

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My #1 Rule for Raising Kids

When I was a kid, I wanted to be one of two things: a garbageman or a weatherman. How cool is a garbage collector? You chuck trash into a truck, watch it get chewed up, and hang off the back of the truck as it goes! Plus, say "hi" to everyone. To this day, I've never met a grumpy garbage collector. They're always dishing out the biggest waves and smiles. I also liked the weather. When I was little, the weather scared me. What do you mean a hurricane has an eye? Like an actual eye? What kind of monster is this? The more I learned, the more weather fascinated me. The power of storms was captivating. I never wanted to be on television, but the only person I saw with a weather job was a TV weather person. So, I thought, that's what I'll do. My parents didn't deter me. Get an education. Be a good person. Hopefully, the rest falls into place. Now, I'm the parent. My oldest, Dylan, wants to be a pilot. That's awesome! Aimee and I have big p

All My Money Goes to 7-11. But There, I Buy Memories!

I keep 7-11 in business. Not literally. But maybe I do. I don't see their books. Maybe me and my three boys are keeping them in the black. How often do we go to 7-11?

I Can't Stand Soft Toilet Paper. It's the Worst!

The kids saw a commercial for thick toilet paper. Check that: They don't watch TV, so this had to be an ad on YouTube — I'm not even sure if the word "commercial" is in their vocabulary. I scoffed at the idea of  thick toilet paper. There is no way that weak stuff will enter my house under my watch! No way. Three days later: "When you're at Costco, can you pick up a batch of the soft toilet paper? The kids want to try it. It's on sale," says my wife. You've got to be kidding me. Not only are we getting it, but I have to buy it — and in bulk! What if someone recognizes me? I will be  judged  as the weatherman who can't handle the rough and tough stuff. Shame will consume me. I try to stay positive. This will be a good thing in the end  (no pun intended). The kids will try it out and see that it just falls apart. It doesn't get the job done like the thin and strong toilet paper. The trial isn't going as I expected. The