Liar Liar Pants on Fire

We're having an issue lately in our house: an issue with telling the truth.  Alex has never been the kind of child who tells wild and imaginative tales - she's always been the tattler in most situations, really.  Or, if she isn't telling on someone to the authority figure relative to the incident, she's likely to tell me about it later that evening.  

Last year, at just about this time, they had a speaker at her school, the local DARE officer, who talked to the younger grades about alcohol awareness.  Alex was honest at that assembly to the point of over-sharing.  I was the parent in charge of the event, the only parent at the assembly, and wishing I could drown my embarrassment in a really big strawberry margarita.  

So who is this kid who has taken residence in my home, who looks just like my little girl, who cannot tell the truth if her life depended upon it?  

Alexandra, did you feed the guinea pigs?  Yes.  Then why don't they have any food?  Oh.

Alexandra, did you take a shower?  Yes.  Then why is your hair still dry?  Oh.

Alexandra, did you do your homework?  Yes.  Can I see it? *tears* I forgot what I was saying!

When I got to her choir rehearsal tonight, I noticed a little stuffed animal on her desk.  I beckoned her over (they were still in their break) to let her know I'd gotten there and to give her a hug.  

Did you get a new stuffed animal?  No.  What's the animal on your desk?  I don't have one!

She walked back to her desk and took the animal from the desk and, reaching under the desk to her friend sitting in front of her, passed it away from her in what was an obvious attempt to hide the thing from me.

I've had a few people now tell me it's a phase and that she'll grow out of it.  It's so unlike the Alexandra I've known ... well, since her birth ... though, that it's driving me absolutely batty.