1. The playground is broken.
Anything we can't currently use/don't want to use is "broken". She doesn't get that it's pouring rain and maybe we don't want to sit and get soaked while she scales the rock wall a dozen times (regardless of how many times we try to explain it), so we tell her it's broken. This applies to iPads with no charge and our phones. Parents of the year.
2. If you pick your nose, it will turn green.
She's pretty much perpetually knuckle deep in a nostril these days and it's disgusting. Ryan is responsible for the little green nose bit, but it hasn't deterred her. She just picks with her usual enthusiasm and asks us if her nose has turned green yet.
3. We'll go to the airport later.
Technically not a lie, since we'll end up there eventually, but she asks us to go the airport daily.
4. Your tutu won't fit in the carseat.
Almost not a lie either. She calls all dresses, skirts, dress up of any variety, a tutu. Usually I'll let her wear almost anything she wants out in public, but I draw the line at the Belle costume with full hoop skirt. That thing is a pain in the ass to fit into the carseat, so we tell her it won't fit and we usually end up with a costume change with minimal fuss.
I like to think these fall into the Santa Claus category of lies. Harmless little untruths that make our days a little bit smoother and get us just a little bit closer to 8 PM.