I only lied about being a thief.

There's a look that all kids get on their face when they're working up a tall tale. Usually it's in response to questions like "How did this get on the floor?" or "Why is my couch cut up into little pieces?". Sometimes the look happens when they decide that the current moment needs a little magic, so they tell a story that can't even remotely be possible. These usually start off with "This one time..." and proceed to tell a story about how they walked on the moon, or saw Bigfoot, or obtained world peace.

I did my fair share of lying as a kid. I was a bit of a pyromaniac, as well. My brother moved in with us for a while and he smoked. This meant that there were lighters laying around here and there. When my parents made a trip to the store (or some other mundane errand) I found the need to light toilet paper on fire in the sink. With a light sitting right next to me and the parents gone, what was I supposed to do? Do the dishes? So I crumpled a bit of toilet paper in the sink, lit it, and turned the sink on just as it was about to go out. For some reason, I had the divinely given knowledge that if it were to sit and go out, it would start to smoke. And smell. Maybe I got distracted by the awesomeness of the fire, but the last bit of paper I forgot to wet. It went out and began smoldering. Unfortunately, I was totally right about the smoking thing.

The whole house smelled like smoke.

My parents came home. They freaked out because they thought the house was on fire. Mom and Dad searched and searched for something that shorted out. The whole time I'm squawking "It's okay. I don't think anything's wrong. It's probably nothing. We should probably go. It's nothing to worry about." I let them search frantically for twenty minutes or so before conceding "I, uh, may have lit some toilet paper on fire."

This was the only time I've ever been slapped.

I guess I kinda deserved it.

I was pretty good at lying. I lied to a friend of mine about getting a drum set in the sixth grade. Why? I dunno, I guess I was bored. When I really did get a drum set, I had to explain to this same friend how my old drum set broke with the tom drum fell off and broke through the bass drum, which was apparently cracked the whole time. I don't think he bought it. I wouldn't have either.

The funny thing is, writers lie every day. It's their job. They're paid to make up grandiose stories. When a kid makes up a ridiculous story, I always think how good they'd probably be at writing.

This is a much better thing to say to their parents than "Your son is a dirty, dirty liar."