Yesterday lunchtime I got a call from the school office. Could I go and collect Podge because he wasn't well? I raced up to the school and was a little bit suspicious when Podge greeted me with a broad grin. He didn't look very poorly.
Back home, he lay on the sofa for half an hour watching telly. And then he was miraculously recovered. So recovered that only moments later I had to tell him to stop jumping off his top bunk bed (I swear he'll go through the floor one of these days). Yesterday Podge discovered how a little porky pie at school can result in your mum picking you up early.
It's been noticeable recently that Podge's fib telling has reached new heights. After school last week he came rushing out of the classroom with a Lego minifigure which apparently his teacher had 'gone out to Tescos' to buy him because he'd 'done good reading'. The Lego minifigure resembled one I'd caught him trying to smuggle into his book bag a few days before,
"Are you sure that wasn't yours in the first place and Mrs X confiscated it and has given it back to you just now?"
Podge was offended I suggested such a thing.
On Friday evening a fib got even more elaborate. Podge was doing a strange robotic walk around the house and tried to convince me that both his legs and one arm had been replaced by robot limbs because he'd accidentally cut them off after he and his friends had been allowed to cut trees with a chainsaw at school as a reward for 'doing good reading' (have you spotted the reading theme?).
Where do small children get their ideas from? If I'm in a good mood, I find Podge's fibs quite endearing. If I'm grumpy I start worrying he's going to grow into a compulsive liar.
I remember my parents used to scare me off doing these things by reading me Hilaire Belloc's Cautionary Tales for Children. Matilda Who Told Lies was a memorable one, you don't want to know what happens to her. And neither does Podge. But I'll get a copy just in case we need it.
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