In the last few days I have been the teller of a lie and the receiver of one. It’s amazing what an impact a simple lie can have and how complicated life can become because of one (or two).
It all started with a pork roast. More than a roast this particular one happened to be joyously stuffed with apples and Brie. Since I have been pretty much mentally and physically checked out for the last while due mostly to my work, my Protector has been managing the home front all on his lonesome.
And forced to plan, organize and execute the 15 person dinner party we held for his college friends at Trent this weekend.
All this to say our angel housekeeper prepared this beautiful roast and we served it to our hungry guests. For whatever reason this time-different than other times where we simply say “We were busy this week and so the woman that cooks for us made this to help us-isn’t it yummy?”. Mysterious lies started to come out of my husband’s mouth further supported by Moi.
I think our logic was-truly 1) this roast is something Hubby could have naturally made so why not take the credit? 2) He wanted to impress his guests and went to so much trouble planning and organizing it and selecting the perfect recipe-why give all the recognition away? 3) he started on a lie and could not stop.
So it all began:
“Oh my God-that roast all roped up so perfectly like that and stuffed looks incredible! Where did you buy it?”
“I made it myself”
“That’s impossible!!!!! You can’t cook that well!!!
“Umm-yes I do-all the time”
“But the way it is roped and wrapped it is as if someone took a ruler and measured it so it would be perfectly spaced. Are you sure you did not have it done?”
“Of course I am sure! Are you calling me a liar? I cook day and night and rope roasts like this often. I just have a good eye and no did not use a ruler”
“Are you sure? We will believe you if you insist-but this is incredible. Really”
“Ya I am pretty good..maybe I can teach you how to rope roasts like this one day”
Next day: admit to amazing cook angel housekeeper that we are big fat liars and ask her to desperately show us how to wrap a roast in this perfect way before 2 months from now at the next get together. And she says:
“My husband is a butcher. He did it. He trains butchers across the island on how to do this so that they come out perfectly spaced and roped for the customers”.
Okay dokey. Yup lying is really really bad. Have I mentioned how much I think people get to learn from experiencing things in life themselves?
We have learnt.
I was also the lucky recipient of a lie this week. When the person told the outright lie I felt like saying “Really? Did you know that 10 minutes ago…..I got the real version of this story? The one without all the lies in it!”
I am biased I guess. I think my lie was better than the other lie. I tend to believe that our roast rope lie was not harmful and not badly intentioned. We are (almost) willing to go back and tell the truth if we did not feel like such idiots and took the lie way too far (almost/ maybe/ not).
I somehow think that our lie did not harm, betray or blindsight anyone. Maybe I am wrong?
All that to say. Lying is BAD. No wonder we tell our kids this all the time and warn them that once one dirty one pops out of your mouth, many others follow because you are backed up into a corner. It’s not very pleasant.
So we all ate this delicious roast together and everyone complimented and enjoyed every morsel, but my Protector and I did not enjoy it as much as we should of. We felt shamed and shameful and were very preoccupied on when we could fit into our schedules to quickly learn the mastery of knots on meats. We should have simply been instead enjoying the succulent company and meal at our table.
So although I was tempted this week to call the other person out and say “Big Fat Liar and you know it!”….I let it go…and silently accepted that perhaps sometimes, in some situations, perhaps a white lie…is better to receive than the truth.
And that is just how life goes.
