The Beauty from a Lie

Just a quick post this time about a realisation that I came to, about a playscheme and my relationship with the children that access it.
The back story to this is that I am a compulsive liar when it comes to children asking me my name. As a rule I try not to introduce myself to children when I first meet them, whose to say they want to know me at all? They may want nothing to do with me; and that's ok. On the whole I get asked what my name is quite early on at a new site though...other than...wait that's not the point.
The point is that when I get asked what my name is I always lie and I don't know why. I don't think that it's necessarily a bad thing (albeit potentially unethical) but before I can think about it I've already explained that I'm Net-man, The Driver, Gary, Erasmus etc... to name the ones that first spring to mind.
In fact in one site most of the children refer to me as Net-man still, nearly a year after that initial lie.

But whilst peculiar I don't do it maliciously, it is with playful intent and on every occasion I have done it, it has been received in this way. They may keep asking me my name and I'll keep giving different name until they decide or realise that indeed my name is Luke. Or they'll ask other staff or playworkers when me and my lies are elsewhere.

Which brings me to the latest site and my latest lie. The group of lads I first met were all very intrigued by playscheme and quickly realised that we weren't constraining or prescriptive adults. That in fact we were very playful, especially when they wanted us to be.
So they asked me what my name was...and I told them I was called Gary. So they were all shouting Gary at me while I was trying to slay them all with a foam sword. And later on one of the lads came up to me and asked me my name (presumably they hadn't heard that it was Gary).
So I told him I was Rodney.
This led to a very confusing game of football when Gary was put on one team and Rodney on another. Neither party had realised that they were one and the same.
The following session went very well and the air was fully of laughter as another game of football spawned (these lads are incredibly fond of playing football) and included shouts of "Pass the ball Gary", "Over here Rodney".

But on the third session in this area the issue came to head. "Whose Gary?", "That is", "No, that's Rodney". And then they all looked at me in a moment of silence and confusion. "Rodney" one of the lads said "Yeah?" I replied, "Wanna play football?" they asked me; and we played.
These group of lads now know that my name isn't Rodney, Nor Gary. But they don't care what my real name is and derive more fun from calling me Rodney, Rodders, Rodger or Martin Luther (Not Martin Luther King Jr), than in trying to find out what my actual name is.

These children now have complete ownership over what my name is, and from the view of playworkers as loose parts I find that quite beautiful.