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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2279960
Dempsey tells another whopper.
Dempsey and Peaches
WC 267


“Okay, this is what really happened, Mommy,” my son proclaims. “Cross my heart.” And he does. “Peaches jumped over the fence.”

“Dempsey, your nose is growing.”

“For reals. Cross my heart.”

“Dempsey, Peaches is a little puppy. She couldn't jump over our fence.”

“Okay, Mommy, this is what really happened. Truly, wuly,” my son says as he regroups. “A man in a dark jacket and baseball cap reached over the fence, picked up Peaches, and dropped her on the other side.”

Dempsey started stretching the truth about two years ago. I thought he would outgrow the tendency; I prayed he would. But, now at seven, going on eight, he is still lying. And frankly, I am getting quite concerned.

“Honey!”

“Really Mommy. He was wearing a Cubs hat.”

“It's okay. She's back and she's fine. Tell me the truth. Last chance.”

I knew he had left the gate unlatched. I was looking out the kitchen window. I saw Peaches scoot right through the opening. I ran out the front door and caught her before she got to the busy street.

“The truth, young man!”

My son's face got all scrunched up and he started squirming.

“Do you have to go potty?”

His eyes lit up. He could buy some time if he said yes and ran into the house. Minutes went by.

“Okay, here's what really happened. I forgot and left the gate open, accidentally. I'm sorry.”

I hugged him.

“Doesn't that feel better, honey? To tell the truth?”

“Not really.”

Yikes. I think I need to make an appointment with a therapist sooner rather than later.
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