Second grade was an amazing time in my life! I really established my love-hate relationship with lying that year. I don’t know if lying is a genetic thing or not, but it seems like it has always been a big part of my life. If it is genetic, I certainly didn’t get it from my Mom. Telling a lie was the #1 sin on her list! I found that out at the tender age of seven.
A beautiful, tall blond girl with blue eyes and a Texas accent moved to my school that year. In a tiny town in northwestern Wisconsin, where we had more cows than people and everybody knew everybody, it was a huge deal to have someone from Texas move to town. Lori was so cool that all of us seven-year old girls were clamoring to be her friend. Part of being a friend was sitting together at lunch.
PROBLEM! There are only two sides to sit by someone at lunch, so we created a seating chart. Pretty sophisticated for seven-year olds, but we wanted to be fair. So, my turns to sit by Lori (I can’t wait to see if the real Lori reads this story and remembers it the same way I do) were on Mondays and Thursdays.
One of those days at lunch, Lori told us a very sad story. On their move from Texas to Wisconsin their golden retriever ran away. They had stopped at a rest area and the dog got away. Everyone thought everyone else was watching him – turns out, no one was watching him. They called and whistled and looked, but no dog. They made signs and posted them in the area, but the dog didn’t show up and they had to head for home because the dad was starting a new job in Wisconsin and time was running short.
As you can imagine, Lori was super sad – devastated! I felt badly for her and wanted to help. Here is where the lying gene manifests itself. She said they had started to look for a golden retriever puppy but couldn’t find one.
BRIGHT IDEA – DUMB IDEA! Born out of a desire to help AND to be her new best friend, I said “I can get you a puppy. Right across the street from my house there is a big field with dogs of every kind, and they are all pregnant with puppies.”
Now I know you’re thinking that is a ridiculous statement, but my seven-year-old brain apparently thought it was believable. Even crazier, Lori’s seven-year-old brain thought it was believable too, and in that very moment I became her new best friend. No more seating chart for me! I got to sit next to her every day. I thought I was so cool! All Lori could talk about was the puppy and asking when they were going to be born and how old they needed to be before she could take one home. I was happy as a clam and just kept playing along – making up stuff right and left.
Then one afternoon my phone rang after school. It was Lori! She and her mom were on the phone and wanted to talk about the puppy. I was trapped – caught in my intricate web of lies that I had spun. So, what does a lying seven-year-old who isn’t thinking very clearly do when she’s trapped? She tells another lie! “I don’t know what happened, but some dogs ran away and some died and there are no dogs left in the field. So, there isn’t a puppy anymore.” And, I quickly hung up!
My mom was standing about ten feet from me in the kitchen where she was making dinner. She clearly had questions about what she had just heard, but before she could even ask a single question, the phone rang again. As I lunged for the phone, my mother intercepted and picked up the receiver. It was Lori’s mom and she was not happy. She had a sobbing child in her home. I was in serious trouble. She told my mom the whole fantastic story!
50 years later, I can’t believe anyone actually believed my lie. Who would ever buy into such a stupid thing? But that’s not the point, there was now a mother with a daughter whose little heart was breaking in two at the moment.
My mom gave me that mom look – you know the one – the look that freezes you in your tracks and at the same time makes you want to run far away and hide. I was sweating buckets and all I heard her saying repeatedly was “I see. I see. I will have a little talk with her.” As I stood there terrified hoping this would all be over quickly and have a happy ending, I heard “Jean Marie, you get over here right now and apologize.” I’m sure I was sad about making Lori cry, but I was even more sad about the lunch seating chart. I was pretty sure that I was not going to be sitting by her at lunch anymore. What if she was so mad that she turned all of the other girls against me? And what kind of punishment was I going to get from my mom? What would happen when mom told dad what I had done? My little mind was spinning, and I couldn’t wait to get off the phone and get started with the rest of my miserable little life.
I was right! My clever (not so clever) lie cost me dearly, but it didn’t teach me to stop lying. Oh no! This was just the beginning of what grew into a love affair with not being honest. Thank goodness most of us grow up at some point.
Reflecting on this part of my childhood raised a few questions.
· Why do we tell lies?
· What causes us to make poor choices just so we can fit in?
· Why didn’t I learn that lying was a bad thing after this experience?
Lest you think you are reading the blog of someone who still lies – YOU ARE NOT!!!!! I did figure it out eventually and have become a huge fan of honesty at all costs.
