Honestly, for the vast majority of children I don’t think it matters what you tell them. Personally I find it interesting to lie and see what age they figure it out at. I regularly lie, use sarcasm, tease, etc… to children as a way of messing with them, as one might to a gullible friend. It’s a game, and I think young children benefit from being exposed to a rich behavioral repertoire.
However, I can imagine a certain sort of child who takes it a little too seriously—so you basically have to use discretion. Never, ever tell a real lie to a child, where something real is at stake, if you want them to trust you. If you think the kid is putting real importance to the idea of santa such that they’d actually be upset when they figured it out, don’t lie to them. Don’t take the game too far.
I guess it helps if the child knows that you are in the habit of tricking them into believing ridiculous things and playing mind games, as is often the case for kids who I associate with. That doesn’t mean that the children know it’s a game—I often say things that are true but sound ridiculous to avoid that situation. It’s that they are uncertain about whether I’m telling the truth or that I’m messing with them, and that uncertainty is in itself a game.
It start with little lies like “I ate your toy...oh wait, it’s coming out of my ear” and gradually escalates to more plausible things like “there’s a rabbit leaving chocolate eggs everywhere”. You’re aiming for a situation such that they’re comfortable with it and when they figure it out, they feel like “Gaah you got me” rather than hurt. And then they keep playing along.
It seems like fathers everywhere do this thing about where they tell lies to their children to see what they will believe. Is it that universal? If so, does that say something about it being hardwired?
My own favorite one was from when I took my kids and my parents to eat at a restaurant. My daughter, who was about two, loved macaroni and cheese. She was hungry and discontent at how long the food was taking. My father calmly explained to her that it took a while for the cooks to “pull all the little legs off the macaronis.” Her eyes got big and started to tear up as she presumably visualized macaronis having their legs pulled off. A quick retraction was in order. I doubt she was indelibly scarred.
I don’t know if it’s hard wired, but I think pretty much everyone in our family was told an unusual circumstance concerning their birth (you had a prehensile tail, you were found on the doorstep, you were bought from Babies R Us, etc) which was maintained as long as possible. Play in general is certainly hard-wired, so why not play with the truth?
The macaroni story has an interesting side consideration though—what are you planning on telling her about where meat comes from? (Assuming she eats meat).
I told mine as soon as I thought she’d comprehend the meaning of the words, wanting to see what the pseudo-tabula-rasa would think about the idea of eating animals, but I guess she had figured it out due to it being called “fish” and “chicken” and we don’t really eat other meats. She did seem mildly discomforted when confronted with it but not enough to stop eating—pretty much how adults react.
On the poor little macaronis, I think she visualized them having their legs pulled off while still alive. She had already discovered the joy that is bacon, and I think she knew more than Homer Simpson about its tasty source.
(Bacon is my one-word rebuttal to all claims of vegetarian superiority. Also my one-word attempt to convert all orthodox jews and muslims. I’m always surprised it doesn’t work 100% of the time.)
Honestly, for the vast majority of children I don’t think it matters what you tell them. Personally I find it interesting to lie and see what age they figure it out at. I regularly lie, use sarcasm, tease, etc… to children as a way of messing with them, as one might to a gullible friend. It’s a game, and I think young children benefit from being exposed to a rich behavioral repertoire.
However, I can imagine a certain sort of child who takes it a little too seriously—so you basically have to use discretion. Never, ever tell a real lie to a child, where something real is at stake, if you want them to trust you. If you think the kid is putting real importance to the idea of santa such that they’d actually be upset when they figured it out, don’t lie to them. Don’t take the game too far.
I guess it helps if the child knows that you are in the habit of tricking them into believing ridiculous things and playing mind games, as is often the case for kids who I associate with. That doesn’t mean that the children know it’s a game—I often say things that are true but sound ridiculous to avoid that situation. It’s that they are uncertain about whether I’m telling the truth or that I’m messing with them, and that uncertainty is in itself a game.
It start with little lies like “I ate your toy...oh wait, it’s coming out of my ear” and gradually escalates to more plausible things like “there’s a rabbit leaving chocolate eggs everywhere”. You’re aiming for a situation such that they’re comfortable with it and when they figure it out, they feel like “Gaah you got me” rather than hurt. And then they keep playing along.
It seems like fathers everywhere do this thing about where they tell lies to their children to see what they will believe. Is it that universal? If so, does that say something about it being hardwired?
My own favorite one was from when I took my kids and my parents to eat at a restaurant. My daughter, who was about two, loved macaroni and cheese. She was hungry and discontent at how long the food was taking. My father calmly explained to her that it took a while for the cooks to “pull all the little legs off the macaronis.” Her eyes got big and started to tear up as she presumably visualized macaronis having their legs pulled off. A quick retraction was in order. I doubt she was indelibly scarred.
I don’t know if it’s hard wired, but I think pretty much everyone in our family was told an unusual circumstance concerning their birth (you had a prehensile tail, you were found on the doorstep, you were bought from Babies R Us, etc) which was maintained as long as possible. Play in general is certainly hard-wired, so why not play with the truth?
The macaroni story has an interesting side consideration though—what are you planning on telling her about where meat comes from? (Assuming she eats meat).
I told mine as soon as I thought she’d comprehend the meaning of the words, wanting to see what the pseudo-tabula-rasa would think about the idea of eating animals, but I guess she had figured it out due to it being called “fish” and “chicken” and we don’t really eat other meats. She did seem mildly discomforted when confronted with it but not enough to stop eating—pretty much how adults react.
On the poor little macaronis, I think she visualized them having their legs pulled off while still alive. She had already discovered the joy that is bacon, and I think she knew more than Homer Simpson about its tasty source.
(Bacon is my one-word rebuttal to all claims of vegetarian superiority. Also my one-word attempt to convert all orthodox jews and muslims. I’m always surprised it doesn’t work 100% of the time.)