This post was originally published October 16, 2014.
One of Gunther's less-demonic attributes is that he enjoys lying (okay, well, that's actually pretty evil come to think of it.) Gunther will lie about anything, and most interestingly, he'll lie without provocation, as a way to entertain himself. I figure, as he's the youngest child, ya boy's gotta find some way to be interesting. You'd think curse-word laden outbursts and berating his Mom in public would be enough, but hey-- he's the devil! He's gonna be as loud and obnoxious as he pleases.
So on this particular day, I picked Gunther up from his soccer practice and endured another silent car-ride, peppered with him babbling about something boring, and then finding a way to get mad at me or insult me. Finishing my pickup-route, I went and got my sister Callie from her basketball practice, which prompted even more babbling from Gunther. Perhaps because he wanted to show off for my sister, Gunther's babbling got a little questionable. At some point, I got my phone out and began recording, and this is what happened:
Me: Gunther, can you tell the beginning part of the story, again?
Gunther: Nope.
Ahh, typical Gunther, observing that I want something from him and swiftly denying me.
Gunther: Why are you doing video?
He has caught me. I am recording him on my Voice Notes.
Me: (Covering) It's not a VIDEO!!!
I cannot stress to you how condescending the tone of my voice is when I tell him it's not a video. I was just very sensitive to any opportunity to prove that I'm actually really smart. Why did I need to prove my intelligence to a six-year-old? Again, I dunno.
Gunther: What is it?
Me: It's twitter.
Gunther: What's twitter?
Me: It's where I text my friends.
Gunther: Oh.
Luckily I was smart enough to realize that an explanation of what Twitter is was not necessary. Sometimes it's just easier to lie.
So NOW he decides to start playing along. He wants the attention too badly to keep denying me his story. He speaks.
Gunther: So do you want me to start from the beginning?
Me: Yeah.
Gunther: When I was going to recess, a kid stopped me, and he said "I like watching shows and movies," and he's like--
Me: Didn't he say "what's your name?"
Gunther: No.
In the previous version of this story (that I hadn't been recording) the conversation between him and the "Kid" started with this exchange: "Hi, what's your name!" and then, "My name's Gunther!" Gunther omitted this part on the second round of storytelling, either because he realized how unrealistic it would be for two first graders to introduce themselves like that, or because he realized that telling the story this way would mean he would have to think of a fake name for "The Kid" which would blow his cover and prove the story is made up. Judging by what he said next, it was the latter.
Gunther: He just said, "Hi!" And then I said hi back, and then he's like, umm.. then he's like, "I like watching shows and movies!" And then I'm like "I like watching shows and movies!"
Why would he ever think that Callie and I would buy this? Literally try to imagine two first graders walking up to each other on the playground, having NEVER MET, and just starting off with "Hi! I like watching shows and movies!" You bet your butt Gunther likes watching shows and movies, because that's how he got the idea for this whole frickin story in the first place, horrible dialogue and all.
Gunther: And then, he's like "You know what the important thing is? The important thing is that I like watching boob movies."
Gunther: And then he's like, and then I'm like, "okay..... I don't watch those movies cuz they're appropriate" [he meant inappropriate] and then he's like, he actually showed me it.
"The important thing is that I like watching boob movies." What a beautiful line. It's like, HEY EVERYONE, SETTLE DOWN, LET'S FOCUS ON WHAT'S IMPORTANT HERE! What's important here is that I.... LIKE.... WATCHING... BOOB MOVIES!!!
And then, I get punished for asking a question:
Me: He did? On his iPad!?
Gunther: NO HE DIDN'T I WAS KIDDING!!!
Me: Oh.
Gunther: And he's like, "When I watch boob movies, I do it."
Me and Callie start laughing. "When I watch boob movies, I do it." Again, another great line from Gunther. It sounds like a part in a movie where a husband has a secret that he confides in to his wife, when she's been suspicious of his behavior during boob movies:
"Honey... when I watch boob movies, I do it."
"Noooooooo!"
And then the audience never knows what "it" is but that doesn't matter, because we see the strain it's put on this marriage.
Anyways, we giggle and try to figure out what he means:
Me: What do you mean? What do you mean I do it?
Gunther: What? [He is obviously buying time because he doesn't know why he said what he said, and realizes now that he has to justify it.]
Me: Do what?
Gunther: He like, pulls out his shirt! [Good save, G. OF COURSE when you say "do it" you mean pull out your shirt!!!]
Me: Oh, to do boobs?
Gunther: Yeah. He's like a first... like a kindergartener... like a first grader. [Okay, wavering on the age of your fictional boob-movie-loving friend is not gonna help us believe that he's real.]
Me: Wow, first grade and he watches boob movies already? [You see, ANYONE can pretend like they know what boob movies are!]
Gunther: Yeah, and he's like, and his mom doesn't let him watch boob movies, cuz he has a mini iPad, and he watches it on there!
Me: And she doesn't know?
Gunther: And she doesn't know! [He says this as though he just thought of it. It feels like we're making up the story together now.] He just picks a random song, he doesn't know how to read, and he picks a song, and it was about boobs....
Me: What!
Gunther: And he picked another song, it was soo... and he picked another song, and.... oh this movie is so creepy!
Aaaaaaand that's the end of that babble. Stories over when Gunther nonsensically changes the subject to some movie that we haven't been discussing. Remember, we're in THE CAR at this point, so it's not like he's reacting to some TV commercial with a movie on it. I figure he was just done with his story and decided to change the subject. Decided to change the subject to an unnamed movie.
Me: (Confused) Yea? (Realizing that the story must be over now.) Well that's a good story.
Gunther: Your phone is off!
Me: Oh, I didn't get a text.
Gunther: That's hilarious!
Me: [What? It's hilarious that my phone didn't get a text? No, he just heard someone somewhere, maybe his Mom or Dad, say the words "That's hilarious!" so he thought he'd try it out. Good for him] Yeah, hilarious. [Moving back to the story] Good thing you didn't tell him your name. [Remember, in the previous version of the story, Gunther and this "Kid" had creepily introduced themselves before the discussion on boob movies.]
Gunther: I didn't know what his name is but he's in my class.
Me: Oh, in your.. in your class?
At this point he senses that I'm getting nearer to pinpointing certain details about "the Kid" that will illuminate the fact that he is not real. Gunther comes in with the defense:
Gunther: No! [Changes subject. Good technique!] Okay, so, I was just trying to walk to recess and he just stopped me at recess. He went into the bathroom to take me there! Where no one could hear this.
Me: Oh, cuz it was secret. [It may seem to you, judging by my exchanges with this child, that I know what he's talking about. In fact, I don't, but I figure that if I just try to make sense of it a little bit, he'll continue on with more vigorous detail because he'll think I understand him.]
Gunther: Yeah. And I went to the bathroom and no one came inside.
Me: Yea. That's cool.
It's here where we sense the story is over. The articles get confusing, the tense is all wrong, and the sentences are missing a clear subject. Not that he was a grammar maven previously, but at least we could understand him a little bit then. Next, he starts babbling about a seemingly unrelated moment:
Gunther: And he's like, then he's like, umm... and I was walking to recess and I was done with my lunch, and I walked to recess, and then, umm... when she ring the gong I walk to recess, and then umm... the kid... the kid was running really fast and then the... and the the, umm... the person? Had a walk sign, and then he said "WALK! WALK!" and then he walks, and then he pass--
Callie: --Are you making this up?
Gunther ignores her.
Me: (To Callie) Yeah that's what I was gonna say.
Gunther: (Continuing) And then he pass, and he starts running to me... he started running to me.
Deciding the storytelling is over, I ask the crucial question. The question we've been waiting to ask since he began his rant. The question that we know the answer to. The question that we know he'll answer with a lie.
Me: Did you make that story up, or is that real?
Gunther: That's real!
Right. Sure, some unnamed first-grader came up to you, earned your trust with a mutual admiration of "shows and movies," then dragged you into the bathroom to play a boob movie on his iPad mini.
Me: Oh. It's good.
Gunther: Why would I make that story up!?!? [I don't know Gunther, why don't YOU tell me, since you in fact DID make that story up.]
Me: (Defensively) Sometimes people make stories up!!!
Then, he comes back at me with an extremely confusing English-language sentence:
Gunther: I think just want to make stories up?
????????????????
Me: (Trying. Why am I trying? I don't know.) Who wants to make stories up? Do I want to make stories up?
Gunther: (Changing the subject--one of the many ways escapes answering questions he doesn't know the answer to) I just kidded my Mom, when I was in Kindergarten.
Callie: What grade are you in now?
Gunther: Umm.. first grade. (Pause) When I was in Kindergarten, I said to my Mom, when I was in school-- this is... this is not real-- (Like he's clarifying now that he wants us to know this story is fake) when I was in school, everybody was sick except me and my friend, but that was... that was not real!
Me: Yeah.
Gunther: That was not real.
Me: You kidded your Mom.
Gunther: Yeah, I was just kidding.
Me: Yeah. And what'd she say?
Gunther: She said, and then my... no... I asked my Dad! I asked my Dad, no I forgot. I asked my dad, and my sisters like "no that's impossible! Everybody's not gonna get sick except me and my friends!"
And then I turned the recorder off because he was getting boring. No story of his, made up or not, is gonna beat "boob movies" today.
So we get home, everyone gets out of the car, and Gunther shares with us a nugget of knowledge, as if it's some big surprise:
"I made up all those stories."
Oh, we know, Gunther. We know.