Speaking as a parent myself, and therefore lying through my teeth...
My seven year old son pointed to the condom machine in the pub toilets and asked "Daddy, what's that?"

"That, son, is a chewing gum machine."

"Can I have some then? They've got fruit flavoured."

"Err... I haven't got any money."

All well and good, but he now asks me the same question wherever we go, and I am obliged to pretend that I am broke. God knows what he thinks the "Novelty" flavour are.

I once cracked the "Two quid a packet, but *what* bubbles" gag to him, just as a test, and he didn't have a clue what I was on about, which, I suppose, was fortunate.

Downfall, naturally, in front of a large audience in the Gents' in Tesco. The little bugger.

I also convinced him, on Children in Need night, that we don't have to donate any money because "we've already done our bit."

"How's that then."

"We gave fifty quid to the children's home to get you."

The threat to send him back always works in those sticky parental moments. Maybe we should come clean sooner or later. He thinks "Oliver" is a documentary.

Edit: Have also told my kids that a) if they get out of bed, killer clowns will eat their brains and b) the really tall steel chimney at the hospital is in fact a rocket that's landed in someone's belly button. Result: son who is phobic about his navel and a daughter who had a panic attack at a birthday party. Whoops.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Wed 14 Jan 2004, 13:56, Reply)