Liar Liar Pants on Fire, Hangin' on a telephone wire

Mommy: Buckle up everyone! Are you all safely buckled?
Kari (lightning fast reply): Yes Mommy ready to go!
Kayla: No no...not yet, I am not...

Mommy did a final check before take off.  Kari sat there not buckled and not even trying. Kayla still struggling. Too young to be a little liar?

A few days later...

Kari hit Kayla, when Kayla just awoke from her nap in her bedroom.
Crying hysterically, Kayla issued a imminent threat to tell Mommy.
Poised and sly, Kari urged, "go ahead Kayla. Go tell Mommy! She is downstairs!  REMEMBER, she is DOWNSTAIRS! GO ON..."

Just a few minutes before that Kari had conversed with me in the office upstairs while Kayla was still sleeping..
Way too young to deceive...


For you, Little Miss Kari---

“Liar, liar, pants on fire. Hangin’ on a telephone wire!”
paraphrased version of the 1810 poem “The Liar” by William Blake.

Deceiver, dissembler
Your trousers are alight
From what pole or gallows
Shall they dangle in the night?

When I asked of your career
Why did you have to kick my rear
With that stinking lie of thine
Proclaiming that you owned a mine?

When you asked to borrow my stallion
To visit a nearby-moored galleon
How could I ever know that you
Intended only to turn him into glue?

What red devil of mendacity
Grips your soul with such tenacity?
Will one you cruelly shower with lies
Put a pistol ball between your eyes?

What infernal serpent
Has lent you his forked tongue?
From what pit of foul deceit
Are all these whoppers sprung?

Deceiver, dissembler
Your trousers are alight
From what pole or gallows
Do they dangle in the night?