A second-grade writing assignment last week. First whole paragraph the Scout has ever had to write. Has to be about animals that do useful work. Police horses, we decide. (Though the Saint Bernard with the whiskey barrell might have been a cooler subject.)
Scout begins to compose.
"My dad and I were interested to learn about why police officers—wait, let me think of a fancy word."
No! I screamed. But it was too late. It was seven years too late. Because, like all human beings, Scout was a bullshitter at birth. And maybe in utero.
All that's left to be done now is to try to teach her how bullshit better.