Sunday, August 23, 2015

August 23: Writing Prompt #235-Pants on Fire

What was the last lie you told? Why did you tell it?

I am terrible at telling lies. My face betrays me.  I cannot play poker or con anyone into anything.  So, the last lie I told…I don’t know because I don’t try anymore.  I did lie to my mom when I was little, telling her I drew a horse by hand that I actually used a stencil for, which she later found in the drawer and caught me in that lie.  I think I’ve written about that one before in this blog.  I also lied to my mom as a teenager about studying at a friend’s house when I was actually at my boyfriend’s house.  Of course, I was caught again.  After that, I don’t remember any major lies.  I’m not going to say I didn’t try to lie occasionally in an uncomfortable or awkward situation, but I was generally unable to do so completely.  And I’m not going to say I don’t sometimes “pretend” things are okay when they are not or smile when I don’t feel like it, but even that is hard for me. Heck, anytime I don’t feel well at work or I have something heavy on my mind, my co-workers start asking what’s wrong?  “Nothing,” I say, but they know that’s not true. Mostly, telling even a little white lie is pretty unnatural for me.  I may be able to keep a small one up for a day or two, but I eventually give in and tell the truth. Isn’t that the best policy anyway? I have enough guilt in my life about mistakes I’ve made or things I’ve done that hurt others that I don’t need any more from lies I tell.  J  I’m certainly not perfect, but lying is not one of the vices I struggle with. 

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