Parents lie to you. Whether it's to make their life a little easier, of your life a little easier, or maybe to make both of your lives that little bit more magical. They lie.
One of the lies my mum used to tell me, was about what happened when I lied. And I like to think I didn't lie much as a child, but maybe this is why.
You see, if I ever told a lie my freckles would turn an unsightly shade of purple. And of course, I could never see this change in a mirror. Obviously it was only visible to the people I was lying to.
Following this revelation, six-year-old me has to really think things through. I'd stand at the back door, having just told the whitest of lies. She hasn't said anything, I'd think. Maybe I'd got away with it? But no, surely she can see they've changed? She's just testing me.
But I can't take it. I need to know.
"Have my freckles turned purple?" I blurt out.
And she smiles, because it's a foolproof way of knowing. Foolproof at least when you have a six-year-old who believes everything. Because why wouldn't it be true if your mother has said so?