[2022-11-24] Turnip fries and other lies I told my children

I bought a rutabaga yesterday, as I'm trying to bring back vegetables I had when I was younger. My daughter looked at it on the counter, and said:
— Is this a turnip?
— Well, actually, it's a rutabaga, but I always called it a turnip when you were young.
— I never liked it.
— But you ate it.
— That's only because you told us that they were turnip fries.

True. I did cut rutabaga into the shape of French fries, and I did tell the kids they were turnip fries so that they would eat them.

When Shane and Mel were little, I read to them The Little Golden Books version of Disney's 101 Dalmations. The story began:

Pongo, Perdita, and their fifteen puppies lived in a cozy little house in London. Their humans lived there, too: Roger, who was tall and thin and played the piano, and Anita, who laughed a lot. They all got along splendidly and were very happy.

The feminist in me thought that the description of the two humans was a tad uneven. Roger had a skill, while Anita simply laughed a lot. So when I read the story to the kids, I gave Anita a promotion: "Roger, who was tall and thin and played the piano, and Anita, who was a brain surgeon."

When Mel was old enough to ask how we had chosen her name, I said, "I chose your name." And for years, I added this completely fictional tale: "Your dad wanted to call you Bertha, but I said, 'No, we're calling her Melanie.'"

One year, Chris dressed up as Santa Claus for the children's Christmas party at my office. Since the costume we borrowed didn't have proper Santa boots, Chris wore his rubber boots, which had distinctive orange soles. When Shane looked at Santa's boots and saw that they were identical to boots his father owned, the jig was up. From then on, he knew Santa wasn't real.

With that myth dispelled, we started writing other names on the kids' Christmas presents. A Star Wars action figure was from Obi-Wan Kenobi. A Queen CD was from Freddie Mercury. The kids got a kick out of that.

The biggest lie I told my kids was that I wasn't worried when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. In truth, I was very worried. But it didn't make sense to me to say that then. And, in retrospect, I would have worried for nothing because here I am, two years later, healthy and very much alive.

I will make that rutabaga I bought, but not as turnip fries. Instead, I'll try Rutabaga Gratin, which looks amazing.