The Sick Bell

So we have something in our house I call the sick bell.  I give it to Katy when she is feeling so icky that she really can't be getting in and out of bed to ask me for things.  As you can imagine, this happens fairly infrequently.  But the idea of having Mommy cater to her every whim sounds like a fabulous idea, so this was our conversation last night.  (I should also mention that Katy has had a chest cold for the past few days, and has been coughing and taking Tylenol).

Katy: Mom, can I ask you a question?

Me: Sure, sweetie.

Katy:  Can I have something?

Me:  What is the "something?"

Katy:  A bell.  You know, a bell is really helpful, is does "ding ding" and tells you when I need something.

Me:  I know, but you aren't sick enough for the bell.  You can get out of bed and move your body and tell me yourself when you need something.

Katy.  Oh.

Me:  Yup.

Katy:  Mom?  Can I ask you something?

Me: Sure sweetie.

Katy:  (coughing)  I think I need some more medicine.

Me:  You already had your medicine.

Katy:  I know, but I think I need MORE medicine.  Like when I'm REALLY sick.

Me:  Really?  What's wrong?

Katy:  Um, my shingdalalala (unintelligible) hurts.

Me:  Really.

Katy:  Yes, really. And then I need the bell.

Me:  I might have more medicine, but that means you are too sick to go to Grandma's house.

Katy:  Oh.

Me:  Yeah.

Katy:  Hmm.

Me:  Does it still hurt?  Should I find the medicine?

Katy:  You know what, Mom?  I feel better now.  I think I want to play Legos instead.

Me:  Wow.  Are you sure you don't need to rest?

Katy:  No.  Legos, please.


And I thought this kind of deception started much later in childhood.  Apparently not.