Guess who hasn’t quite got the hang of fibbing yet?

Fifi could look you dead in the eye without blinking and tell you the moon is pink (daddy, it is pink) and then get all uptight when you tell her she’s fibbing. She’s a natural at it, and boys had better beware because she will have them running in circles in years to come.

The boy on the other hand is hilariously inept at the whole “telling things that blatantly aren’t true” thing.

The give aways are:

  • fidgeting;
  • refusal to make eye contact;
  • nervous laughter;
  • completely implausible story
Take last night for example. When we checked on the boy before we went to bed, we noticed a small puddle on his carpet. I suspect it was like the time when, half asleep, he got up and did a wee up against his chest of drawers in the middle of the night- the intention was there but his sleep fuddled brain didn’t get him as far as the bathroom. Ten out of ten for intention, one out of ten for effort.
Compare and contrast to Fifi, who did something so astonishingly naughty the other day, and then blamed the boy. He was so incensed, he got really upset but Fifi was adamant it was him. I told the pair of them unless the culprit owned up, they would both be punished. Fifi was unmoved. Unmoved until I said that whoever did it, if they owned up and were big enough to admit to it, wouldn’t get punished. It took her all of three seconds to ‘fess up then.
I think that pretty much sums up the difference between boys and girls really.
We’re in a competition as part of the Big Turn On to win a Nissan LEAF, you can read about it and vote for me (if you want to) here.