Newsletter Sample: Parents & White Lies
The White Lie That Had My Mom Calling Day Care
One of my favorite childhood memories comes from a magical winter day when I was six. Bundled up and ready to play, I headed outside with the other kids from day care. We spent hours building a small igloo that felt like a powerful, impenetrable fortress. Once we’d finally finished, our day care lady surprised everyone with a warm McDonald’s lunch—a delicious reward for all our hard work.
Sounds like an amazing day, right? My mom thought so too… until she called my day care lady and found out it was a complete lie.
As an adult, my family and I can laugh about how imaginative I was as a kid. But that memory got me thinking: how do we, as parents, talk to our kids about white lies?
According to Psychology Today, a white lie is “often harmless to others” and “told to maintain social manners and courtesies.”
Let’s be honest—we’ve all told our fair share of white lies. Whether it’s avoiding hurting someone’s feelings or keeping the magic of Santa alive, white lies can sometimes feel like a gray area. But how do we help our kids navigate the line between imagination, fibbing, and the importance of honesty?
Here are some suggestions:
Explain the difference between a white lie and a big lie. Teach kids why honesty is especially important when it comes to serious matters, particularly within the family.
Recognize imagination for what it is. Sometimes, a “lie” is just a creative way kids are expressing themselves. Encourage them to channel their creativity through storytelling, drawing, or other outlets.
Respond with curiosity instead of accusation. When you approach the situation calmly, you create a safe space for your child to be honest with you in the future.
Read about it together. Stories are a great way to explore tricky topics like lying. Here are a few book suggestions:
Hippo Owns Up (ages 2-6)
The Empty Pot (ages 4-8)
The Boy Who Lied (ages 11+)
Dealing with white lies can be tricky as a parent. But when in doubt, lead with honesty, Santa—err, I mean, Mom.