Jory hurt his finger and reached out telling me to kiss it better. I kiss it.
Jory: I hurt my finger when the mokey bit it at the end of the pool.
Me: In the pool?
Jory: The monkey bit it in the pool in San Diego. But my finger's getting better.
Me: I'm sure glad your finger's getting better, or I'd have had to beat up that monkey.
Jory: The monkey's not here. He's in the water in San Diego.
(Jory has never been to San Diego. Nor has he ever been bitten by a monkey to my knowledge, but he knows how to keep up a lie).
Several minutes later we walk into the kitchen and Jory shows Grandma his injured finger.
Grandma: What happened to your finger?
Jory: The monkey bit it.
Grandma: Where were you when he bit you?
Jory: I was in San Diego at the zoo in the water.
Jory: I hurt my finger when the mokey bit it at the end of the pool.
Me: In the pool?
Jory: The monkey bit it in the pool in San Diego. But my finger's getting better.
Me: I'm sure glad your finger's getting better, or I'd have had to beat up that monkey.
Jory: The monkey's not here. He's in the water in San Diego.
(Jory has never been to San Diego. Nor has he ever been bitten by a monkey to my knowledge, but he knows how to keep up a lie).
Several minutes later we walk into the kitchen and Jory shows Grandma his injured finger.
Grandma: What happened to your finger?
Jory: The monkey bit it.
Grandma: Where were you when he bit you?
Jory: I was in San Diego at the zoo in the water.
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