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September 3, 2008 Little Lies
The monster at the end of the book is still in hiding, though I see you persist in turning pages. I didn't go to work today, which was nice, but unbelievably weird even if I do regularly take vacation days. I just spent a few minutes packing up my backpack for tomorrow (my first day). I think it's giving me hives. Meanwhile we've encountered a smaller, sleepier sort of monster. Frances's 'sister' C has always been a teller of tall tales. Examples escape me, but I regularly find myself, eyebrows raised, muttering a non-committal "hmm" to some outlandish story of exceptional hardship or cleverness. She seems to thrive on the importance the stories give her. They make her matter, I think. Frances takes them as gospel. I guess you could say that we both do, but I'm a skeptic and she's a believer. So my faith in her utter veracity had already been shaken, when yesterday Frances burst into my house from C's, crying. "The other girl flushed my toy down the toilet!" The other girl is no more than three and so far as I can tell speaks no english at all. We went next door, tears streaming from Frances's reddened eyes. Her toy was a two-inch-tall green plastic alien, very flushable, very new, very cheap--a toy from a birthday loot bag. C's grandma was alarmed, the other girl's father was alarmed, I just wanted someone to answer for my child's tears and her lost toy. The other girl's father and C's grandma speak very little english. C translated while they spoke in Russian amongst themselves. I heard "toilet" a lot and saw a lot of flushing motions and the father asked the other girl a question and she shook her head, and of course I didn't follow any of it, and Frances cried. Then came C with a long, thin screwdriver. "Don't worry, Frances," she said. "This will be just like the Little People princess. I will get it back for you." She was completely certain. The Little People princess was a toy that Frances brought outside to play at the beginning of the summer, and it got lost outside. Frances and I looked and looked but couldn't find it anywhere, and I was not pleased. I told Frances she had to be responsible for her toys and from now on I would limit how many she could bring outside to play with because I couldn't afford to replace them when she lost them. We would look again sporadically all summer long. The day after C got home from her vacation from Florida, C found it just lying around. And though Frances took it rapturously and without comment, I wondered how it was that the toy disappeared when C was playing with it and then reappeared when C got back, and so quickly when we had looked so hard for it all summer long. So when C said that this would be "just like the Little People princess," I thought, I'll bet. Sure enough, C went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and I heard a few clinks and scrapes, and out she came with the little green alien. So far as I know, it is impossible to rescue a flushed toy with a screwdriver. Frances was overjoyed. I was upset. Downstairs I heard the other girl getting spanked by her father, and then the other girl shut herself in a closet and cried. I felt awful and used. C played us both like a fiddle to make herself look like a hero, and made two little girls cry, one of whom got hit by her Dad. I told Frances that we couldn't be sure what happened because we didn't see it, so we should be nice to the other girl when we see her again and give her another chance, because maybe she didn't do it. That C might have lied. Frances does not want to believe this of her sister, of course, so I showed her: we flushed something else down our toilet and tried to get it back, and failed. I don't want to destroy Frances's hero-worship of C--ok, yes I do. But it hurts to do it. Frances loves C. But what if C does this again? Frances needs skepticism, doesn't she? If you were me, what would you do? Posted by Andrea at September 3, 2008 3:11 PM under Friends and Others EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments Wow, that's a rough one. We actually DID have a kid flush a toy down our toilet and we had to hire a plumber in order to use the toilet again. I wanted to deposit the bill in that kid's parents' mailbox, but my husband talked me out of it. Instead we avoided the kid. We ran into him at Todd Lake about 3 mos later and WHILE HIS MOM WAS RIGHT THERE the kid started pulling the legs off frogs. Not to compare C to our maniacal neighbor... I guess I'd have a talk with Frances about why C might do something like that, and then I'd have a one-on-one with C. All kids can use another concerned adult in their lives, I think. Posted by: Jennifer (ponderosa) at September 3, 2008 3:07 PM
Oh...Jennifer's answer is good. Except that in your one-on-one with C., I would add to it, just a little. Maybe mention that you've got spy cameras planted everywhere, and that you KNOW what really happened (lean in and say it all hush hush-like and confidential). And then, draw back. laugh maniacally and then stop abruptly - mentioning casually, breezily, airily, that if one toy ever goes missing again when Frances is with her, that Frances won't be allowed to play there again, and C. can then only play with Frances, right there, in your living room - because the floor there is a lie-detecting floor; and if she tells a lie while on it, a special chemical will be released and red dye will spray on her and she'll forever be branded a liar. Or, her pants will burst into flames - you never know what's going to happen with with lie-detecting floors. (And show her some red marker you've scribbled on yourself, pulling up your sleeve suddenly and pretend to try to rub it off frantically, muttering something about "It was only one more cookie!"). Then, cuddle them both close and Pinocchio to her, stressing the nose and the donkey part. Posted by: Marla at September 3, 2008 6:03 PM
I'd apologize to the family downstairs, first.
As for the girl herself - I don't know. Confronting her might help, or it might make her sneakier in the future. I don't know, I have no advice on that front. Posted by: Uly at September 3, 2008 7:24 PM
First, I think I'd get really mad. And swear a lot. And hate on the kid quite a bit. Then, I hope, reason might set in. I think you handled it beautifully with Frances. I do think you need to let C know that you're on to her, though. Maybe just have a heart-to-heart with her about how sad Frances was about both toys that went missing. Ask her how she would feel if HER toys went missing... Posted by: Kia at September 3, 2008 9:15 PM
I don't know what *I* would do -- but I know that when I was little, once my parents sussed out that sort of behavior in one of my neighbors, I would not be allowed to play with that child at all. Posted by: tmana at September 3, 2008 9:19 PM
I'm on your side but I can see where it's a fine line between teaching your child bitter cynicism and the skills to evaluate a situation for herself. I think that I would lean toward having a conversation with C's parents over having a one-on-one with her myself, mostly because if someone were to decide to lecture my (theoretical) child about her behavior without talking to me, I suspect it would really annoy me. BTW, what about the 'you can like C without liking everything about C' talk? I know that even as an adult if I like a person I want to idealize them and that so very rarely works out well. It's hard to learn to separate the things people do from who they are. Posted by: Zazzy at September 3, 2008 9:56 PM
I'd take the next opportunity to talk to C alone sometime, and explain very seriously that, while making things up is fun, getting other kids in trouble or upset with your stories is NEVER OKAY. Tell her that you want Frances to love the truth, and to never lie; and she'd love to have a friend who does the same. And if that doesn't work, read her a bunch of unsanitized Grimm's fairy tales about the consequences of fabulation--that should do the trick. Posted by: Penny at September 3, 2008 9:59 PM
I keep coming back to this because I'm also at a loss for what I'd do. In this situation, there are two people being hurt: Frances and the girl who got spanked for a crime she didn't commit. Frances is your top priority, and maybe letting C know that her charade did not fool you would make her think twice before pulling that again in the presence of non-family adults. The next step, I think, is deciding how much action you'd want to take over the treatment of the little girl. Is it possible that C doesn't realize that her lie affects other people? Would it be reasonable to point that out to her? "And you know, C, So-and-So got spanked because you said she did something that she really didn't do. Is that fair?" FWIW, I benefited on many occasions from an adult outside my family nudging me back in line - even as a child in elementary school. I think a nudge, in this case, could yield a positive in the long run. Maybe you and Frances won't see that outcome, but someone will. It's such a crummy place to be, honestly. I'll be eager to hear how this plays out. Posted by: amy at September 4, 2008 8:54 AM
Another vote for talking to C, gently but firmly, about the consequences of lying. She needs to not feel as omnipotent as she did at that moment. I'd also let her parents know you talked to her, but I see absolutely no problem with trying to teach a neighborhood child how to behave morally (as long as it's not done in a scary, mean way -- which of course I would be SO sorely tempted to throw in a Pinocchio/Grimm/lie-detecting floors story). I also think you should be commended for trying to foster "skepticism" in your child. It's a fine line, huh? But one I also think is critical. Such a sad/tough story, actually... These seemingly mundane dramas of childhood scare the bejeesus out of me (I haven't yet had to deal with anything as seemingly serious since my boys are still 2.5). Posted by: Bella at September 4, 2008 11:12 AM
I also go with talking to C. Trying to talk to parents about their child is a very delicate thing and usually does not go well. My best friend when I was little was a sneaky, telling parents what they wanted to hear little thing. I remained friends with her but I knew what she was and if you know you can handle it better. With Kid L I have dealt with "bad" friends twice. When she was 5, I kept her away from the little girl for a few weeks. That was enough to get the other girl to behave. Last year, I tore an 11 year old's ass because she was disrespectful to me which led to the conversation about her treating her friends like crap. I have to say that girl was a piece of work, the scheming and lying was amazing. Needless to say she never told her parents about our conversation b/c she knew I would tell them what had been going on and what she had been doing/saying. Posted by: ccw at September 4, 2008 12:54 PM
I just feel badly for the girl downstairs. I know there is a language barrier but could you write a note to the dad explaining that you have learned that the other girl didn't do it? Posted by: Mad at September 4, 2008 1:13 PM
I would if I could but I have never seen them before and I don't know where they live--it might not be in the apartment complex. If I see them again (whether at C's or elsewhere) I will talk to them then. A lot of you have some good ideas about talking to C. I'll have to see when my next opportunity is and we'll see how it goes. Posted by: Andrea
I feel sorry for the little girl who got spanked. That's not right. I would try and find some way to get the message across to her parents that she didn't flush the toy. Posted by: Jill at October 17, 2008 4:59 PM
Thia is a tough one. I really don't have any helpful answers, but I can empathize. K has a kid in school who she just adores, and he is blatantly mean to her. I keep trying to diplomatically tell her that friends don't treat friends like that, but its hard to make her see.. he SPIT in her eye in front of all the other kids one day and she STILL loves this kid. aghh! Posted by: Eryn at October 22, 2008 5:50 PM
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About Me I'm a type 1 diabetic, witch, feminist, environmentalist, writer, mother, student and print addict in Toronto, Canada. The blog has seen the birth of my daughter, her many medical adventures, my divorce and return to school. The name of the game is upheaval. Subscribe
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it." Pablo Picasso Email Frances! frances AT andreamcdowell DOT com You can email her mother too (that's me):
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