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lying for fun and profit

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-eight years and a million words

On Thursday night I asked Kenny if he'd sat on the toilet before going to bed. He glanced aside for an instant, looked back at me and sweetly said, "yeeessss."

Liar. Sweet, silly liar.

Then this afternoon as we raced home, he said, "daddy, I want to hold your hand." Slowing to take his hand, I was rewarded by a cackle as he raced around me.

Liar!