Sorry, Dr. Phil, but honesty is overrated. I mean, do you have any idea how many times a day I lie? At work alone it’s constant. “Yeah, Doris, that pot of coffee you made was great. Thanks.” Translation: It was swill. “Way to go, Danny Boy. Glad you had great sex this weekend with a hot lifeguard.” Translation: I hate you, you life-having piece of crap. “Sure, Tom, I’m pretty much done with that project. Just need to fine tune it a little.” Translation: What project?
At home, it’s even worse. I can’t remember the last time I spoke the truth at home. It’s a minefield there. You can’t let your guard down for a second. It’s why I’m always tired. You even have to be careful with your lies. For example, when my wife asks the dreaded question every husband hears eventually, I know never to say she is fat. She’s not, but if she were the size of Minnesota I’d still call her petite. My mother didn’t raise no dummy. Well, actually she did. My brother.
One time my wife asked me if she looked fat in this particular outfit and I automatically (as in programmed) answered, “Of course not, Honey. In fact, it makes you look thin.” Do you see my mistake? She took that to mean that without that outfit she is fat. Welcome to “No Win Theater,” everyone. Otherwise known as my life. There are times when she looks downright gorgeous and I tell her so and I’m not lying. But before letting the words escape my mouth I study them, looking for any danger potential (as in above). I make the occasional mistake, but overall I’m good at this.
My kids? Lie to the trusting little “angels” all the time. Here are a few gems I’m particularly proud of: “Sorry, sweetie, I have no money on me;” “The beach? This Saturday? Oh, I wish I could, but I’ve got to work. Darn!” “Of course not! Why would I erase your ten episodes of ’16 and Pregnant’? I know how much you love that show. I love that show.” See? I’m a natural. And yet if you asked me if I consider myself an honest man I would say “Absolutely.” Interpret that any way you want.
All I know is, I can’t fully relax until I leave Monday morning and get to my sanctuary called work, where there are far fewer land mines. Now, that’s no lie.