Unicorn farts smell a lot like freshly cooked bacon

Dad, what do unicorn farts smell like?

This is one of the hundreds of questions a day I get from my six-year-old daughter. Some of the questions are in the realm of what I would call normal like “why do I have to brush my teeth?” Others, like the one above can be a little more fanciful.

Equally, my answers can range from the scientifically accurate to the more stretched. Now I’m sure there are those perfect parents (i.e., those that have never had a child), looking down their perfectly shaped noses at me saying, “You should never lie to your child”.

Well, I’ve got to break it to you, Doctor Spock, most, if not all, parents lie to their children. Some are small lies like “Santa Claus brings your presents” up to the big ones like “If you work hard at school, you will get a good job” (sadly that is not a guarantee).

In the past, I’ve shared a story about one of my lies to my daughter, the butt-sensor.

The butt sensor remains effective, as a tool for keeping her from unnecessarily disrobing in front of strangers.

To say I lie often to my daughter is probably a bit of a stretch, but I do tell the occasional lie. There are several reasons why I, and other parents, lie to our children about things. Let’s look at the big reasons:

For her peace of mind

There are lots of bad things in this world, but does a six-year-old really need to worry about them all? In turn, do that six-year-old child's parents need to be kept awake by her worrying about them? The answer is NO.

When my daughter asks, “Are monsters real?” Then my brain immediately thinks, “there are some evil people on this planet that should be classified as monsters”. Instead, what I say is, “No darling, monsters aren’t real”. She doesn’t worry any more than she needs to, she doesn’t have nightmares, and I don’t have to go on for the next hour or so explaining just how evil some people are, which I can assure you would come from her follow-up questions.

To balance things out when she asks, “But fairies ARE real, aren’t they?” I naturally say, “Of course they are”.

It’s funny

Ok, I accept that the decision on what is funny rests with the individual. What one person considers funny; another might find terrifying.

For instance, where I grew up, we had a bird called a curlew that was around our house. Their cries sound quite blood-curdling. One night, a bit scared by the sound I asked my dad what it was. Now he could have easily said, “that’s a bird son, nothing to be afraid of…” instead he went the other route and said, “That’s the ghost of a child that was murdered”. My dad evidently thought this was hilarious. I, however, was left with nightmares for years.

I re-told that story as part of Dad's eulogy last year, evidently, all of his family and friends thought it was hilarious.

I try to be mindful of this experience with my little girl. I try to avoid things that cause too much psychological harm.

When she asked me where we could get heart-shaped rocks for her to paint, I told her “Oh I’ll have to call into the heart-shaped rock shop” (try saying “heart shaped-rock shop” quickly). Naturally, that bit of humor has bitten me on the ass, with my daughter now regularly saying “Dad, when can we go to the heart-shaped rock shop?”

It is quicker and easier

Why do you have to have a bath now? Because in fifteen minutes all the hot water will be shut off and you will have to have a freezing cold bath. You don’t want that do you?

Most of my time as a parent is explaining why someone needs to do something that they should have done twenty minutes ago. My wife still thinks it’s hilarious how anxious I still get about running late and she thought that by now I would have accepted it’s a fact of life. I do not accept that.

If I can move things along, even just a small amount, I will. If lies need to be involved to get compliance, I'm on board with that.

Yes, I have told her that if she doesn’t put on sunscreen now before we leave it won’t work in the pool and her skin will peel off. Yes, I have told her that if she doesn’t start doing what she's supposed to do I will call Santa (as an aside if you’ve got a Google Nest, try saying “Hey Google, call Santa” and see how quickly a child becomes compliant when they hear “Hello, North Pole, just connecting you to Santa” in an elf voice).

Look I think it’s important for my child to trust me, I also think it’s important to protect them, get them out of the house on time, and be amused while you do it.

Am I ever going to win World’s Best Dad? Yes, I win it every year on Father’s Day and have numerous items to prove it (apparently the judging is lax and there are no real governance processes applied there).

My daughter knows I love her, as she gets older she'll discover that I told a couple of porky pies here and there. I am sure she will forgive me.

******************************************************************** Thank you for reading. As always, if you have enjoyed please like, leave a comment, or a tip. All interactions are greatly appreciated.

If you would like to read a different story that gives some insight to me, the below was written about my realization that I may have autism spectrum disorder after watching a Jim Jefferies stand-up special.