Great Lies To Tell Small Children

There is a book I really like called Great Lies to Tell Small Children. 

So I thought, as I should be studying for the exam I have in two days, I should add some of my own favourite lies. After all, it's only a Sociology exam, it's not like it's a real subject. 

These are all lies I have tested on my little brothers, and all relatively harmless. Not that I tell them falsities on a regular basis and without reason, these are all lies which serve a purpose. Usually my laziness. 

Let me begin with my favourite lies, which all involve monsters. 

One cold rainy day when my brother Hamish was about 3, he asked, with love and affection in his eyes, if I would take him outside to play in the garden. As I said, it was a cold rainy day. Naturally, I told him we couldn't, as there was a monster hiding in the tree.

This seemed like a good idea at the time, as after assurances that the monster couldn't come into our house, he was quite alright about the whole thing. However on our next walk through a wooded area, Hamish seemed to have developed a spontaneous fear of trees. 

Seeing how effective this story had been, I later adapted it to make bathtimes easier. Did you know that monsters can only find children by smell, and clean children don't smell at all? Hamish still re-tells this story, spreading the knowledge.   

Both boys have the unfortunate habit of nose picking, so another little lie was needed here. The explanation of it being unhygienic and unpleasant wasn't sufficient, so 'germs live in your nose' became 'Germans live in your nose'. And we all know what happens when you upset Germans. 

There are also the more standard fibs, which I think most people have to adhere to around small kids. Generally these involve pretending something is not at all funny, when really your lungs have collapsed with trying not to laugh. I often have to do this when Ruaridh grabs his big brothers head and thrusts it under water in a bath while giggling maniacally. Or when Hamish in rage and frustration shouts nonsense words at me, until he stumbles across 'YOU DIRTY DITCH STREET RAT!'. 

Probably my favourite lie, which I intend to keep telling them over and over until they stop believing me, is the biggest.  When one of my lovely, trusting brothers asks, 'but how do you know this/ how did you fix this/ why did you do that?', my answer will always be

Because I'm a genius.