Truth, Lies and Biscotti

I've found that 4-year-olds are a veritable font of unasked-for truth. Like the other day when Chloe saw me reading my Bible:

C: What are you doing?
Me: Reading my Bible and praying. I'm having my quiet time with God. I try to do it every day.
C: But you don't do it every day.
Me: I know, but I try.
C: Yeah, but Mommy, you don't!

Or regarding my post-baby size:

C: Mommy, when I grow up and have a baby, will I have a really, really big chest like you?

But last night Chloe outright lied for the first time. I mean, she's told plenty of fantasy stories about the people who come and play with her during naptime, but this was different. This was a LIE. In fact, it was three LIES.

She was supposed to clean her room, which pretty much looked like a tornado went through a tutu store. She said she was done, and when I checked, lo and behold, a clean room! Except, wait, what's that sticking out of the closet? Hmm...some dress up clothes...and baby doll clothes...and pajamas...and dirty clothes. She had stuffed the whole pile into her closet. So we talked about how we don't put things into our closets like that, and she had to put them all in their proper places.

Hysterical crying ensued.

Later, she came out and said she was done.

Me: Already? You put it all away?
C: Yes.
Me: You put your dirty clothes in the basket?
C: Yes.
Me: You put your baby doll clothes in their drawer?
C: Yes.
Me: You cleaned it all up?
C: Yes.

So I go to check, and lo and behold...it's all still in the closet. She didn't check one thing. So I sat her on my lap and we had a talk about what lying is, and how it's not honoring to God, and she apologized and we prayed to ask God for forgiveness, too. Then I told her she had to clean it all up.

Hysterical crying ensued.

She refused to look at me or talk to me, and finally (since it was past her bedtime by now) I just had to say goodnight and she could finish cleaning and then get herself into bed.

So today we made biscotti together, since we ended last night on such a low note.

Because really, is there anything that some homemade biscotti and a cup of coffee (or two) can't fix?