Where's my pony?

In today's Metro, a London free paper, there's a story about parental mendacity. Yes kids, your mom and dad lie to you.

A survey of 2000 parents commissioned by a British breadmaker Warburtons indicated:

Half of adults tell their kids that they will get square eyes if they watch too much tv. Four in ten say Santa only visits well behaved kids. (Which is the lie? Santa or that only good kids get gifts?). And one I particulalry liked was that some environmentally aware parents tell kids that utlities companies will send them free toffees if they turn out the lights.

I have to wonder what the purpose of this survey was, but I'm glad that people are doing useless research. It amuses me.

I think I was told that Santa brought bad kids "switches and ashes". But that would never be used here as most Brits don't know what a switch is. (A length of thin supple tree branch used to beat you).

The lie I really remember from VolMom was when I was pestering her in the grocery store for a pony. (As if they sold ponies there). I was about four and I remember begging for a pony. She told me that I could have a pony, when I was 12 (two more lifetimes away at that point), but only on the condition that I not say one word about it until then. Otherwise, no pony.

I agreed and I never mentioned the pony. Not once. Though I harbored the dream of the pony. When I turned 12, there was no pony. I asked where my pony was.

VolMom said "I didn't even know you wanted a pony ever. Lots of little girls talk about ponies, but you never said a word, never gave any indication of wanting a pony"

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