When I was in the 3rd grade I went through this streak of lying. It started out innocently enough when a kid in my class got up and talked about some trip his family took. The other children, along with myself, were all mesmerized - enthralled that somebody our own age had already had so many experiences like we had only seen in the movies. So when it was my turn, my story started with me telling the class about being adopted. All true enough. Where it went south was when I didn’t end the story at my adoption, rather, took it a few steps further. Before you knew it, my tale consisted of my parents driving through the Appalachian mountains only to find me and my lost dog along side the road. Much to my great surprise, the kids clapped when I finished. Little did I know that this was the moment I committed myself to the steepest mountain of ice I could possibly climb. And the ride began. For the life of me, I can’t understand how I ever got that little fib passed my teacher. I did learn many years later that the teacher was actually not listening to me, but in her office with her boyfriend. All she heard was the clapping. As she emerged with her buttons out of alignment, her hair looking as if she had just gone through a wind storm, she smiled and told me they would love for me to tell more of my story THE NEXT DAY! I wanted to throw up. The next day when I saw the boyfriend, I felt true panic. And then my worst fear was upon me. While the teacher was “correcting papers” in the office, she asked if I would continue telling my riveting story. Even a 3rd grade James Bond wasn’t going to be able to think out of this one, and neither could I. Reluctantly, I stood up and started where I left off. “Where were we? Oh yes, me in the Appalachian mountains, waiting for two parents to drive by and want a child.” Hoping the re-cap would be enough, I trudged on. New details, new adventures, and new lies. Every word was a lie. I am ashamed to admit this went on for so much longer than I would have thought possible. But while the teacher was enjoying the boyfriend, I took over my new career in fiction. I was in so deep, I hadn’t a clue what to do. I didn’t think it could get worse, but then parent teacher conferences came around. I had to go, and I just had this silly idea that if I was really lucky, the story hour thing would go unmentioned. I almost made it. In fact, I had received my report card, and we were on the way out the door - homestretch. My mom was never one to stay for small talk. She had five more of these conferences to get through and didn’t have the time or interest. My large family was going to save me! I almost started to skip and hum at the same time. Until... “Mrs. Hunt, I just really wanted to commend you and Dr. Hunt for the wonderful thing you did for little Ruthie.” My palms started to sweat, and my mom stopped in her tracks. I considered fainting, but it was too late. I had already told my teacher about my nonexistent “brain surgery” to keep my “seizures” at bay the prior week. “What? You mean her adoption? You knew about that, didn’t you”, my mom asked. I silently prayed for an earthquake. “”Oh yes, but we didn’t know about finding her stranded in the mountains with her dog.” I was staring at my feet, but I could feel two sets of eyes staring directly at me. “Mountains?” It all came tumbling down. All of it. The entire lie that helped invent the persona the class was proud of. But none of my troubles were nearly as bad than having to stand in front of the entire class the next day and recant. I had to tell them the entire thing was fabricated. My shot at story hour never came through again. I was soon banned from show-and-tell after I brought a tennis racquet and tried to say it was a magical musical instrument. Being ostracized and humiliated is what I remember about my small career as a fake. What this taught me was how bad lying could be, even just a small fib. Getting caught will teach you this and quickly. From that day on, I had no problem telling the truth. If I broke a window, I owned up to it. Caught cheating on a test? I’d plead guilty. My new credo was if I did it, I would always take responsibility for it, and even got a little bit snarky about it. I would take pride in my extreme honesty. Getting in trouble was not a deterrent. If I wanted to do something, I did it. But what I wouldn’t do is throw another under the bus, or tell an untruth to get myself in the good graces of authority. Any authority. I have since passed this on to my kids. I can deal with anything except being mislead. Especially just to keep oneself from getting in trouble. Now when I make a mistake? I share the naked truths about whatever I did. If it went terrible, I tell them why. I try and explain why they should never repeat my mistakes, but I never try and make it what it isn’t. They know this. If you have wisdom to impart to your kids, even if it is something that you may not be proud of, tell them. They will thank you for the gift of honesty. A lesson I learned in a very harsh manner many years ago. It was a good story, maybe even great. But it wasn’t mine. That was the day my mom bought me my first writing pad. She encouraged my story telling to stay between ink and paper. And here we are. I have turned my story telling acumen into my career. Would it have ever happened without that story from third grade? Who knows? Now it makes me smile. It took more than just a minute to find funny, but we do laugh about it now. Even my mom still smiles about it, I am sure! Everybody have a great evening. Let’s talk again tomorrow, I will bring the coffee. -Ruth #lies #life #blog
Posted on: Thu, 30 Oct 2014 21:59:13 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015