André And Ray

If a white lie is an unimportant lie told out of politeness or tact, then the tactic I use to discipline Matthew ought to be called a "grey" lie. Grey lies abound:

• If you don't finish your bowl, you'll marry an ugly ...
• You'll go blind if you...
• You better not pout, you better not cry ... because Santa Claus [himself one great big grey-bearded lie] is coming to town ...

My Santa happens to be policeman Ray Brown, a name that came to me probably because I was listening to a Diana Krall CD when the idea struck—he was her mentor.

Each time Matthew acts up, it's me "on the phone" with policeman Ray Brown, or that Ray Brown is coming by the house to check up on things.

Yesterday I made Ray Brown incarnate while at the recreation centre. I noticed that a co-worker—let's call him André, as in André the Giant, owing to his stature and build— was there poolside with his family. I told him about the lie and asked him if I he could play the role of Ray Brown. He was more than happy to. I went to tell Matthew, who was sitting with Betty in the centre's glassed-off pool viewing area, that I was with Ray Brown and that I was going to point Ray out to him. I returned to the pool deck and stood beside André and waited till Matthew looked our way. I saw him glance over at us and then quickly turn his back to us and then tuck his head under Betty's neck.

Better yet, André the Giant got into the swing of things on his own accord and later walked over to the three of us and introduced himself to Matthew and said with a completely serious face, "Your dad tells me you've been a good boy, right?"

Hey, I've got to get as much mileage out of this while Matthew's still too young to know any better. But he's already catching on; he asked Betty about Ray's civilian clothes, and noted that Ray didn't appear to be carrying a gun. As a final note, Matthew commented that "Ray wasn't that scary." [The co-worker is really a gentle giant.]