Oops? Moments later, I head upstairs to his room. I pop my head in. “Honey?”
“Mom…I really don’t think you’re telling me the truth. I really don’t.”
What now? There was nowhere else to hide. Believe me, if I could’ve come up with something he might’ve bought, I would have tried.
“You’re right: I was smoking.”
“What? You really were?” He seems surprised. Maybe I broke too soon.
“Yes, I made a big mistake. You know, mamas make mistakes sometimes, too.”
“Aw, why’d ya do it, Ma?” At this point he sounds like Spanky in Our Gang.
“Well, I guess I was curious. But it was a big mistake.” Suddenly, an evil smile breaks across his face. His voice becomes sing-songy: “I wanna know where you keep your cigarettes.”
Another opportunity to lie through my teeth! I don’t squander it: “I don’t ‘keep’ cigarettes!”
“Then where’d you get the one you were smoking?”
Think fast. “A guy gave it to me. You don’t know him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Um, Joe. His name is Joe and you don’t know him.”
“Does he smoke all the time?” This kid’s got a future at The Hague.
“Yes, he smokes all the time.”
“He’s gonna die.”
”We’re all going to die, honey.”
“Mama, why’d you do it? …I’m scared.”
“Sweetie, I made a mistake. I won’t do it again.”
We hug and kiss. He feels safe enough to go to sleep. I get up to go.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, Mom,” he offers, thoughtfully.
“But I better not catch you with one of those damn sucky things in your mouth EVER AGAIN.”
“You got it, pal.”
Another lie. I can’t help myself. Besides, as I tell my children, “We are often not very skilled when we first begin an activity; with practice, we improve.” I’ll cover it up better next time.
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