Speaking of lying, I have a cherished memory of my daughter. I left her sitting in my car while I withdrew some cash from the bank. I never smoked in front of her but at four she was like a detective. I come back from the bank and she's sitting there quietly. Something on the pavement under her window catches my eye. I look closer and it's bits of white paper with some shredded brown stuff. Quite a lot actually. I don't remember this when I parked or I would have noticed. I'd been glancing back at her every so often and she always seemed to just be quietly waiting. I stand back up and she's nervously watching me. "Daddy, I have to tell you something," her voice is all trembly," I tore up your cigarettes' because I don't want you to die." I nod solemnly, say "OK" and just walk around and get in to drive. "But, don't worry, I saved you two, just in case!" I check in the glove box and sure enough, two cigs left in the pack.