In the last issue, we asked you what lies you've told your children to avoid explaining something you weren't quite ready to address.

Here is a selection of answers submitted by our readers.

Office Romance

When my husband and I go out together, we tell our four-year-old son we are going to a "work meeting." My coworker used this with her child (he's seven and still believes it) and it has worked like a charm for us. My son doesn't ask questions; he doesn't beg to go with us. He just accepts it as naturally as when we leave for real work. And he's never asked us why sometimes there is popcorn or shopping bags from our "meetings!"

--Aimee Wolsko, Clinton, NJ

The Spoiler Foiled

The enlightened kindergarten skeptic shared his knowledge with my son's class by announcing, "There's no tooth fairy, and Santa's just your mom!" My wide-eyed innocent came home and put it to me: Was this kid right? I paused. I took a drink of water. Then, I came up with it. "Does the tooth fairy come to his house?" My son shook his head. "No? How about Santa?" No again. "Really? He doesn't get anything from them?" Nope. "Hmmm…" I took another drink. "Well, you believe in them, and they come here. That boy doesn't believe in them, and they don't visit him," I ventured. "Maybe in order for them to come to your house, you have to believe in them." My five-year-old looked at me. I looked right back and smiled. Relief flooded his little face. We haven't spoken of it since. The rewards under the pillow still appear, and the stockings are stuffed. Sure, I'll probably pay for it later, but it was worth it. The magic lives.

--Tracy Reed Will, Oronoco, MN

Close Enough

After bathing our daughters a few weeks ago, our three-year-old asked, "What's the difference between the butt and the vagina?" As I opened my mouth, preparing to give a straightforward, anatomical explanation, my husband turned toward her and simply stated, "The vagina is in the front." Then he smirked at me and sauntered from the room, delighted at averting another of my "way-too-much-info" answers.

--Wendy Tittel, Cincinnati, OH

A Different Kind of Treat

Since Steven was old enough to ask, I have said the tampon machine in the women's bathroom is a candy machine. Last week, we were in the grocery store women's room and while I was doing my business, he managed to pry a quarter out of the feminine hygiene vending machine, which he used to buy himself something out of the little toy machine at the store entrance.

When my husband asked where he got the lovely new necklace, he said proudly, "I found a quarter in the candy machine in the women's bathroom!".

--Liz Heumann, Walworth, NY

Parting Gift

I've always tried to make it a policy to be straight with my kids. My son's first word was "dog," followed closely by "mama," his sister's name, and "Kotex."

However, not long after he was born, my then two-and-a-half-year-old daughter was watching as I got out of the shower. She looked at me closely and said, "Mommy, you have a really big butt." Without hesitating, I told her that when you leave the hospital after having a baby, they give you the baby to take home along with a big butt. All mommies get one. She looked pretty skeptical until I added that every grown-up's butt looked big compared to hers.

--Melanie Davis, El Paso, TX

A Lie Fur Sure

When my five-year-old daughter first started hounding me for a cat, I explained that I am very allergic to cats, which is a fact. She took the news hard, but accepted it. Soon, however, she started to ask for other kinds of pets--e.g. a dog, rabbit, chinchilla, etc. After each of these requests, I explained that I am very allergic to all animals with fur, which is not a fact.

Bottom line: I just do not want a pet at this stage of my life. Taking care of my two young daughters is enough for now. At one of my weakest parenting moments as a stay-at-home dad, I actually proclaimed to my wife, "I cannot be held responsible for any more living things in the house, including plants."

Unfortunately, my deceit came back to haunt me. My daughters and I met a woman who was nice enough to let the girls pet her cat, and my five-year-old launched into her standard, "I'd love to have a cat but my dad's allergic to all animals with fur" routine. Because the nice woman assumed I was telling the truth, she started brainstorming pets that don't have fur. Thanks to this "help," my daughter got a pet fish for her sixth birthday.

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