A Mask

Anyone who has children or spends time around children will tell you that it is hard to lie to kids. Not the little things like I love your painting of a red blob that is supposed to be a fire engine or these are the best cookies I have ever had even though they taste like salt cubes. Those are easy because they come from a place of love and pride and genuineness that only a loving adult can give a child.

The hard lies are the ones that require a mask. A mask that is so hard it can't crack on the rainiest of days. I have had a lot of rainy days lately and I have been lying to my kids with the thickest mask I can manufacture. I know it is for their own good but it is killing me. Slowly.

I look at them everyday and I know they know something isn't right but because they are 12 they can't put their finger on it. They say good morning, see you tomorrow, how was your weekend all the usual stuff. But now I get things like, are you in a good mood?, are you happy today?, Are you having a good day?...

They know pink slips went out and they have asked, I was honest and told them that I got one but I assured them that they shouldn't worry because the money would come through. It was a lie, there is no money but they are too young to worry about my job. They are too smart not to. So here we are day in and day out, me in my mask, them trying to make me happy - thinking if they can do something well it will make the mask go away and Ms. Knapp will come back. I don't know if she will. I want her to for their sakes. They deserve better. But for now the mask will have to do, it is all I have.