I remember the first time my child tried to lie to me. It was endearing but at the same time it was infuriating, because it was obviously a lie. And it was a lie to get out of trouble. It was quite obvious that he was the one who broke the chair; there was no one else who could have done it, yet he insisted that it was like that when he got there. Though I heard the crack, which is why I came running. Eventually he admitted the lie, and we both felt better. And I wish I could say that was the last time he lied to me, but it wasn't.