The Boy Who Cried Wolf

We have entered the stage where Baby is testing boundaries with the truth.  Or more, how much she can get away with not telling it.  She isn't maliciously lying, and it is always about silly things (like her sister is the one who turned the music on) but even still, it is not a habit I am looking to support.  

Sisters, the perfect scapegoat.
About a week ago, I told her the story about the little boy who cried wolf.  She has asked me to retell the story at least once a day and after each retelling of the little boys demise we discuss the moral of the story.  Tonight, after I told the story she said to me, "So I was thinking about the little boy Momma..."   "Maybe he wasn't lying.  Maybe the wolf ran away when he knew the people were coming to help him out.  Or maybe the wolf was in a cave somewhere and the boy was saying he saw it there.  I just think the little boy saw a wolf and wasn't lying!" I can't decide which I should appreciate more-her ability to think about a story and take it to a deeper level or her innate desire to see the good in everyone.  Or then again, with this child, she could be pulling the ultimate con on me thinking that if she convinces me the little boy wasn't lying, then maybe she too, doesn't lie.