One of my children has a tenuous relationship with the truth. His stories start in reality and retain a general level of truthiness. But sometimes he veers over in to how he thinks a story should go, or how he wishes something would end. I don't know where he got this tendency from.
On our drive up to Ely last week, as we were making our way across the last few miles, this son was up in the co-pilot seat. DuNord is a place he truly loves and loves to share with others, so he was telling stories about the place to Haroon, our new friend from Pakistan, and his roommate. And as he was talking, he glanced out the window and in to the snowy woods and said, "I just saw a wolf." Right. The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, like it was something he saw every now and then. I didn't say anything, but I thought perhaps it was a dog, maybe a coyote at most. You don't just see a wolf while looking out your window. Those things are elusive.
But then we got a text from pals in the next car back, independently verifying the truth of my son's statement. I wish I had instantly believed and stopped or slowed down or at least turned my head and tried to find what he said he saw....next time he cries wolf, I will believe.
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