The Road to 40 Day 39/365: Lies, loss, and play

by | Jun 18, 2025 | Strawberry-Filled Donuts

On a very normal Tuesday, Vino and I had to sit down to talk about a couple of really important things.

Like any other day, I took him to school and later picked him up. He was waiting with his friends, and as soon as I arrived, they all stood up and said “let’s go!”

Vino asked if he could still play, and I found no reason to say no. He brought his football, and they all headed towards the field where they would play around for a bit.

When it was time to go home, Vino asked if we could ride with everyone. We usually take a different bus from them, but we could actually take any bus that passed by – the other routes would just be a bit longer.

Since we were in no hurry, I let them have their way. Vino asked if he could borrow my phone, to which I said no. But the kids were all cooped up together because they wanted to watch on the one phone they got to borrow.

I would prefer for them to play or talk to each other, but I guess that’s what kids like now. Not letting Vino borrow my phone at least gives them the opportunity to interact with each other.

As we were going on different paths, they said goodbye on the bus as Vino and I went with it to our own stop.

When we got home, I asked Vino to do some typing practice on the keyboard to have a more productive screentime.

There was a game on the tablet and I hooked up my bluetooth keyboard so he can practice while I prepared dinner.

I peeped to see that he had his frustrated face – almost crying but not quite. He said it was because he couldn’t get three-stars for the level. I looked at how he typed, and I told him that he isn’t using what he learned from the earlier challenges of the app, so naturally, he wouldn’t get the top score.

I told him that it’s fine, because he just started. But I took it as an opportunity to explain to him that he’s crying for the wrong reasons.

I told Vino that he must remember that he’s not great at anything. No one is born great at everything.

It’s an important mindset he must keep in his mind. See, growing up, his little achievements are all celebrated well, like most kids. When we play with them, we allow them to win so that they can get the satisfaction of achieving something.

So now, when they fail, it hits harder for them. They think that in whatever they do, they are instantly great at it because they got so used to winning. That’s why I tried to beat Vino in running from time to time when he was younger – I didn’t want him to feel that he is destined to beat anyone who competes with him.

With the typing test, I told Vino that it’s natural for him not to get three stars. His technique was wrong, and he was all of 20 minutes into using the app.

To be great at something, it takes hours and maybe years to do so. Since he’s not spending that much time on typing, then it’s natural that he isn’t going to get the highest typing score. He has to put in the work if he wants to be good at something.

The problem is that he usually wants to skip tutorials and go straight into a game. Same with lessons – he doesn’t pay much attention to what is said and he just goes for it and later keeps asking questions about how to do things.

I told him that there’s value in understanding why he’s being taught the things that he is being taught. Be it in school, football, or even in that simple app. And constantly practicing it will help him get a little bit better than before.

Having the mindset of not being great at anything pushes you to chase greatness instead of dealing with the pressure of always having to be great.

We had version 1 of my cordon bleu, and Vino said he liked it. He had a lot to eat, so I was happy with that. Sometimes he’d just say things, but he ate quite a bit so I know he meant it.

Before we went to bed, I asked Vino if he brushed his teeth. He said yes.

I asked him if he’s sure, and he said yes.

I told him his toothbrush is dry, but he insisted he brushed his teeth.

After this whole exchange, I said I will believe him if he says he brushed his teeth. Besides, if he’s lying, it’s not my teeth that are going to be ruined.

He then brushed his teeth.

Disappointing would be the most diplomatic way I can describe the situation.

It’s not the first time that it happened, which makes it worse.

I don’t ask anything from Vino, but asking him not to lie to us is one of those big things I verbally express that I don’t want him to do. If he can lie straight to my face, how much more to other people? And to what extent?

I had to explain to him that lying and cheating could give him temporary advantage, but truth always comes out and the pain caused by either will linger more than whatever advantage he gained.

To be fair, he said sorry unprompted after brushing his teeth. I acknowledged it, but said it will not instantly fix what he did.

I folded clothes without saying any more words while he watched TV. When I was done, I turned off the lights and told him to sleep.

He lay down beside me and put his arm across my neck.

No matter how mad you are, no parent can stay mad when this happens.

He fell asleep on my arm throughout the night, changing only to rest his head in the middle of my stomach and my chest.

Che and I agreed that there’s no way for us to control how Vino acts. As a parent though, I feel like the things that the kid naturally does is a reflection of what he sees at home.

I believe I don’t act in ways that I don’t want Vino to copy. And yet, he lied with such determination that I began to question if I’m mad at him or at myself.

I’m still hoping that Vino takes this lesson to heart and grows better.

After all, no one is born great at everything.

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