As a child, lying was a past time of mine. Goddess forbid I would ever have to lie and my life depended on it now, because I would probably fail. My face will give me away along with my need to say the truth because, let's face it, lying is just harder. You have to keep track and possibly build upon what you say.
I don't seem to have a problem lying to my children it seems and I can thank my mom for this talent.
My mom was very good at lying to us and making it sound convincing. Instead of just saying "don't do (insert here)," she would make up a story. For example: "Don't go into the attic because alligators live there and will eat you." My personal favorite and one that kept me awake one night while in high school because I thought it would really happen was, "Don't pop zits on your face, because you will die of a brain hemorrhage."
I blame her lies (or stories) on kissing the Blarney Stone.
I can't help but think it would be way easier to say, "You will get pox marks on your face if you pop a zit there and it will be ugly." Or, "Don't go in the attic." But, what do I know because I have found myself doing the same damn thing with my kids now.
I can't help but cringe and smile all at the same time.