Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies

This past Saturday morning a certain niece of mine (Name: Paige. Age: 3) called to rouse me from my weekend sleep-in to tell me something of great importance. She was at the zoo - and the last time she was there was with me and we watched the giraffe pee. Pause... to wait for me to confirm that I too carry this memory with me during every waking moment.

Aah, yes. I remember it fondly. I had her slung on my right hip, using my left arm to point out how tall the giraffe was... how big his tongue was as it reached for leaves... how he had 4 legs and 1 tail... and then she was screeching the most important characteristic of this particular giraffe - he was, "PEEEEEING! PEEE!"

Once we had that one out of the way our totally sophisticated conversation moved on to other topics, such as the fact that she dressed herself that day AND that she saw a kitty cat, but that he DIDN'T HAVE A BABY.

Seeing as phone calls with her pretty much rank as my favorite way to spend any minute of any day, I was desperate to keep her chatting. I proceeded to ask her about all of the animals that she saw. Yes, I heard you the first time about the kitty cat. No baby - got it. What a jerk that kitty cat is for not having a wee one with him! The rest of it went like this:

Me: Did you see...a ZEBRA?!
3-year-old: No.
Me: Are you sure? They're the ones that look kinda like horseys but they're black and white?
3-year-old: Nope, no zeebahz.

Crap. What else do I remember from that zoo last year? I remember zebras! Zebras are cool! Clearly I didn't impress that upon her enough last year... stupid giraffe and his stupid need to relieve himself right in front of her...

Me: Did you see any monkeys?
3-year-old: Um... oh... No.
Me: WHAT? ...Ok, fine... So, what's ChaCha doing right now? Is he with you? I hear the Easter Bunny brought you a plastic lipstick... how's that working out for ya?

It was right about this time that my sister took the phone to tell me that they were about to leave the zoo so they all had to hang up on me, but not before she took "the cutest picture" of Paige talking to me.

Le sigh. Now I was awake, remembering an enormous animal having his bladder seemingly explode right in front of me, and there's no more 3-year-old to mumble about it all into my ear.

Today the newest batch of pictures of the kiddies came through, signaling that my Tuesday was not a total loss. I closed all heinous work files and turned on some good tunes in preparation for flipping through images of smiling babes running around in diapers with food all over their faces. And then the zoo pictures started to appear.

Awww! There was that picture of Paige and me chatting it up like girlfriends on Shell's cell. Long pause to consider that she is the cutest thing ever, and that she really isn't too dang bad at dressing herself.

And then it happened. I flipped to the next picture, first wondering how Shell can ever hold the 2 of them like that for any length of picture-taking time...and then realized exactly what animal it was that they were standing in front of. ZEEE-BRA. PAIGE GRINNING IN FRONT OF IT. Someone had been feeding me spoonfuls of nonsense!

The next picture just confirmed that I'd been had for a fool - by a 3-year-old. Because you know and I know, if it weren't for that thin bit of glass, Paige and that goateed monkey would have been photographed in a full blown cuddlefest.

Damning evidence, indeed. Now I'm left to wonder what else she's been hiding from me. I mean, did that Easter Bunny really get her some plastic makeup and a humming 'hairdryer' - or did she really get a basket full of spy gadgets and manuals on how to call up your auntie early on a Saturday morning and mess with her hazy head?

Eh, who am I kidding? She can tell me whatever she wants, just so long as she keeps calling to fill my hungry ears with her sweet little white lies.