It must be inherent.

Abbie can't tell a lie to save her life. She gets that from me. Her eyes wander and the corner of her mouth will twitch like a bad tick until I get full on teeth.

"Abbie, did you do this?"

She stifles a giggle. "No, Mommy."

I put on my best Ricky Ricardo. "Abbie..."

"I don't want a time out!"

Jason, though? That dude will look you right in the eye and lie, even if he knows you witnessed the crime. Here's one conversation we recently had in which I did not see what had happened...but I heard it.

"Jason, did you pee on the floor?"

"Nope."

I decide to use words that wouldn't sound as accusatory. "Jason. Did you have an accident?"

He raises his fists into the air and punches them back down for added emphasis. "NO! I didn't."

"Then how did this spot get wet?"

His deadpan expression includes big brown puppy dog eyes that completely lack the mischevious twinkle you might think a kid caught in a trap might have. His face is the picture of pure innocence. "Joey did it."

This might be a viable answer, except this spot is new, Joe is outside in pull ups, and I heard Jason do it. "Joey's outside, J. What happened?"

His little eyes roll to the upper corners as he considers who might be the culprit. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was really trying to help me figure it out.

"Ummm, Abbie did it."

He's lucky I have patience today. "Abbie's at school. Did you not make it to the bathroom? I'll bet you tried hard."

"Yeah."

Ah-hah. "So did you have an accident?"

"No."

"Are you sure, because I need to know so I know how to clean it up."

He sighs. "Yeah, I just have an accident."

I've learned I have to appeal to his sense of logic. I know - he's only four - but he has a sense of logic. It's weird.

A few days pass to find him messing with Abbie's hula hoop. It's easy enough to fix, but I don't fault Abbie for getting pissed off. Jason's constantly "experimenting" with and breaking her toys.
For this particular debacle, we had a conversation much like the one above. It began with the initial interrogation. "Did you break Abbie's hula hoop, Jason?"

"No."

"What happened, then?"

"Ummm, the red ants did it?"

When that doesn't fly, Jason continues to place blame on Joseph, Abbie, and then he even goes so far as to accuse Daddy, who was at work. I send him to his room until he can decide to tell me the truth.

A few minutes later, a humbled little boy comes out to tell me sorry. I ask him if he can tell me the truth. He nods.

"So what happened?"

"It did it by itself?"

My voice firms and I give my best don't you dare look. "J."

His shoulders fall. "I broked it."

And there you go.

Before anyone might think otherwise, no. Joseph just doesn't have the strength. Abbie wouldn't have done it herself--I mean, she might have, I won't lie, the kid is quite the talented manipulator - but I know Jason. He likes to break Abbie's toys to figure out how they work or what they look like inside. He's not a malicious kid, just too curious for his own good. His ability to spit out a believable lie is a little more than nervewracking. What will he be like at fifteen?

On second thought, don't answer that question.