Liar, Liar

I totally forgot I wrote about lying recently. The topic must have been formulating ideas in my subconscious because I wrote a blog on lying in Word to paste into WordPress tonight because my husband’s computer works better that way. Then I read my post because someone commented on it.

So, here it is: The television show “Everyone Loves Raymond” exaggerates human frailties and miscommunications just enough to make people laugh.

In one episode, after Raymond talked to his older brother Robert about the pitfalls of marriage when he was forced to stay home and wait for a curtain delivery, it influenced Robert’s thinking about committing to his girlfriend. Then Raymond told his wife he was just kidding when she confronted him about it. His parents were upset. He told his mom, “You know how I am, I joke around a lot.”

The more he protested, the more a childhood rhyme came to mind: “Liar, liar pants on fire…” Then something about them hanging on a telephone wire. It’s been a long time since I was a kid. 🙂

We took lying seriously when we were kids. Everybody lied, but usually it was a small thing and when you realized you lied, you went to the person and said you were sorry. You did your best not to lie. If kids found out you lied regularly and you never admitted it, then they didn’t trust you, and suddenly you weren’t invited to play games outside with the others. Maybe someone throws a birthday party and you’re the only one at home feeling left out. That’s how it was when I grew up.

Lots more interaction with parents mostly staying out of kids’ business. If I had a falling out with one of my friends, my mom would listen to me and then say, “Well, what do you want to do about it?”

I’d list my options and then she’d say, “If you were her, what would you want to happen?”

Then I’d go and think some more. I’d tell her. If it seemed like a good idea, she’d say that might work out. If she thought it was a lousy idea, she’d say, “Hmm, you really think that will help?”

I’d give my answer and then she’d say, “I hope you two can be friends again. You’ve been friends a long time.”

Then she’d leave me alone and let me work it out or let the relationship slide. I miss my mom.

She was easy going unless I pulled some stunt that really upset her. Then I’d hear about it and get punished for it. Consequences always caught up with me. I got my mouth washed out with soap one time, I either sassed her back or told a fib or used a swear word when young and not aware of the backlash or rebellious enough at the moment not to care.

She reminded me that “young ladies” do not behave that way. She was loved by many, even with her imperfections. She mothered every kid that came her way.

 

 

 

 

 

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