I also don’t like to be untruthful for other reasons. One is that I’d have to remember all the details surrounding my story and another is that my body physically reacts to lying in an undesirable way that involves cold sweats, a flushed face, and the words “I’m a liar” appearing in bright neon across my forehead.
Though I’m not cut out for deceit, there are types of fibbing that don’t bother me at all. For instance, when I waited tables, I’d regularly spout lies to customers concerning the superior flavor of certain menu items. One place I worked was Chili’s which has served their “Awesome Blossom” (a deep-fried onion) for years and almost everyone who tried it loved it. I don’t care for onions nor do I care for dipping sauces that could possibly contain a mayonnaise base. This covers a wide spectrum of non-mayo products including ranch dressing, guacamole, and “Awesome Blossom” dipping sauce.
The only thing worse than misrepresenting my own personal tastes is hearing a server say, “Gosh, I’ve never tried that dish, but to my knowledge no one has been hospitalized after eating it so I guess it’s okay.”
Since I strive to be as honest as a person with customer service employment history can be, it surprises me how easy it is to lie to my own children.
I have inadvertently lied to them, like the time I took my daughter in for shots and told my 5 year old son that he didn’t need any. When the nurse scanned his chart, it was brought to my attention that he required four shots!
He was innocently sitting in the waiting area because he didn’t want to hear his baby sister cry when she got stuck with the needle. I called him into the room and said, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” He requested to hear the bad news first and I regretfully told him the shot situation. He immediately began tearing up and asked in a shaky voice for the good news.
The problem was that I didn’t have any positive developments to report. I guess I should’ve used a different lead-in; instead, I said, “I’m sorry, son. There really isn’t any good news.”
To this day, I don’t think he has ever forgiven me for those surprise vaccinations.
I have purposely lied when it comes to my kids and food which is par for the course with my restaurant background. For some reason, they never put up much fuss if dinner included chicken so I just started calling meats “beef chicken” and “pork chicken.” We had salmon one night and I told my son it was “river chicken.” Needless to say, that description didn’t help him appreciate salmon at all.
Being mostly honest isn’t always easy. If people ask for my opinion, I try to deliver it without hurting feelings, but that isn’t always possible. You’ll know that I’m struggling with an answer when I start to look at the sky, attempt to change the subject, or suddenly have bad stomach cramping and have to run to the bathroom.
In order to be my friend, you must understand: if you don’t want to hear it, then don’t make me say it. If you can live with that then we’re sure to get along just fine.
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