Little White Lies – We’re All Guilty Aren’t We?
Posted: Wednesday, May 25, 2011
by Brianna Popsickle
I waved my hands in the air and whispered, “No, no, tell her I’m not here.”
My son gave me a disgusted look and said, “Yes, she is. Just a minute please.”
I glared at him as I took the phone and settled in for what I knew was going to be a long conversation.
The situation brought back memories of a woman I used to work for. I was her receptionist. Countless times she would have me make up an excuse for her not taking a call. She would sit and snicker as I struggled to come up with something. I hated it. Sometimes the same person would call countless times for something they felt was important, and she just shrugged them off. I never liked her much and I didn’t appreciate having to lie for her. Yet here I was asking my son to do the same for me.
The other day I sipped a glass of wine as I prepared dinner for my family. I kept eyeing the tray of brushetta I’d made to serve as an appetizer. I decided to have just one piece. Then I had one more. By the time everyone had gathered for happy hour I’d eaten half the tray. I switched the tray for a smaller one and spread them out. I declined a piece when it was passed to me. “Mom,” my daughter said. “Have some. You love brushetta.”
“Oh no, I don’t need any. I made it for you.” I lied. I declined again as the tray was passed a second time. Just as my son reached to take another piece, my daughter grabbed the tray saying, “No. Mom hasn’t had any.”
I couldn’t take it any longer. “I had some, okay?” I blurted out, disgusted with myself. “I ate half a tray while I was preparing dinner!” The room got quiet as they all looked at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.
Little white lies, they’re usually harmless and we start telling them when we’re kids. You know, the whole ‘the dog ate my homework’ routine.
I’m not sure where or why we learn it, but I can distinctly remember my mother, sisters and I quietly hugging the wall pretending not to be home when a Jehovah’s Witness came to our door. (My mother would want me to point out that she often talked with them, it’s just that some days they were hard to get rid of.)
Just the other day I caught myself in a lie when our plumber called to ask if a payment had been sent out. I’d discovered the cheque earlier that day between the seats in the van. “It should be arriving soon,” I lied, looking at the envelope still lying on my desk. “It was mailed out days ago.”
And just today as my hairdresser combed through my wet hair she looked at me in the mirror and asked, “Have you been cutting your own bangs again?” I casually tilted my head to the left and slid down in the chair a little saying, “No. What makes you think that?”
We’ve all told white lies and we’ve all caught people telling them.
Fishing stories about the one that got away, come to mind. The fish gets bigger each time the story is told. Then there’s the golfer who boasts of his handicap but doesn’t count all his strokes, and the overweight person, who, while polishing off a second piece of cake says, “I never eat desserts.” We’ve all heard the familiar sound followed by ‘it wasn’t me,’ or ‘it was the chair,’ all harmless white lies.
I think there’s a difference between a little white lie and a pre-meditated one.
I was behind a woman at the customer service desk the other day. She was returning a blouse. As the clerk held it up it was plain for all to see that the tags had been cut off, a button was missing and it smelled of perfume. The clerk said, “Are you sure this hasn’t been worn ma’am?” To which the woman calmly lied through her teeth. “No.” she said.
I do think though, there are times it’s okay to tell a little white lie. It may even be the right thing to do.
Like when someone shows you a picture of their adorable grandchild and says, “Isn’t she the cutest?” After the initial shock, you force a smile and say, “Yes. Yes, she is.”
I think it’s okay to tell a white lie when someone asks you if the outfit they’re wearing makes them look fat (and you know they’ll look fat in any outfit they wear, simply because they are fat).
It’s okay to lie when the loudmouth who’s been talking to you all week at the resort says, “So you promise you’ll stay in touch?”
It’s okay to lie when you’re asked if you’re free to spend the evening watching slides of your friend’s latest rock hunting excursion.
And finally, if someone asks you your age or weight, not only is it okay to lie, it’s expected (mainly because it’s no one’s damn business).
There are those other times when my first instinct is to lie, but I can’t.
When the dental hygienist asks if I’ve been flossing regularly. I want to say yes, but know the minute she comes at me with her floss my gums may start to bleed and she’ll know otherwise.
When my doctor begins my breast exam saying, “So you’ve been doing a self- exam monthly?” I want to say yes to avoid the lecture and get the hell out of there, but I can’t.
When my chiropractor asks if I’ve been doing the twenty-some exercises he’s given me faithfully, I so badly want to straighten up without wincing and say ‘yes’, but instead I smile and ask, “What do you think?”
Today I got nailed not once but twice telling a white lie. I returned from shopping with several bags in my arms. My husband hollered from the other room, “Did you get anything?” “Just a few groceries,” I lied, as I discreetly went up the stairs to stash a bag of new clothes. My husband walked in as I was pulling the clothes from the bag. Oops!
Later as I worked at my computer, my husband came into the kitchen and went to the fridge. “Who ate the rest of my chocolate bar?” he asked annoyed.
My son was passing through the kitchen and said, “Not me.”
I looked up to find them both staring at me. “Well, it wasn’t me,” I said indignantly. But we all knew I was lying. Anyone silly enough to leave a half-eaten chocolate bar lying around with me in the house, has no one to blame but himself.
The fact is, when it comes to telling little white lies, we’re all guilty. The trick is not to beat yourself up over them. Save the guilt for the real ones.
How do you know the difference, you wonder?
You’ll know. It’s the real ones that keep you awake at night.
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Top-level comments on this article: (8 total)Hi Brianna, you make me laugh reading this similar nature of humans. (Oh, still can't help laughing ) I also almost have done what you have plus some real fakes. Hahaha....It's nice to know we're not alone eh Hilda? I"m glad I could give you a laugh! Have a great day.
Hey Brianna, this is good. Real good! You've thought of so many scenarios and the examples are great. We had a particularly difficult time with one grandchild about lies - so the subject is near and dear to my heart on many levels. Lies are unacceptable in this house for nearly every reason, and perhaps the only pass is to protect from a big hurt or some unusual other reason. Sometimes avoiding even the white lie is to learn the "true art of tact and tactful expression."Well said! White lies, if they become too easy to you, can quickly become the real thing, I suppose. Thanks for reading!
I think I should say I haven't a clue what you could posiibly be talking about, but I have to admit, I do- I did...about seventeen years ago!No llittle white lies since then eh Bing. I believe you. Oops, there I go again.
Yes, I guess we're all guilty of telling little white lies. good article BriannaThank you David.
Speak for yourself girlfriend! I never lie. I'll tell you your fat, I will tell you no way will we keep in touch, and I will admit to the eaten chocolate bar everytime. And by the way, this was a lousy article - who loves you baby? :-) :-) :-)hahahahhahahahhahahahhaha Just what I need, a friend who'll tell me I'm fat. You won't even play with the truth if it means not offending someone? I don't make a habit of it, but I'll work on it Teresa. P.S. I appreciate your 'honesty'. :)Actually kidding aside, I don't tell white lies even if it's not to offend. Instead, I am worse, I just stay quiet if I can't find a kind word. My kids and my husband tell me that I am brutally honest. My biggest pet peave is lying (goes back to my childhood). But that's not to say I haven't lied in the past, but I honestly can't remember the last time I did. I won't ever tell anyone they look fat in "those jeans, I will either say, they look great (because they do, regardless of the size) or I will say, I'd go with a different pair. I have said that before. But you know what, my friends have come to realize they can be brutally honest with me too, and they are! :-) I do agree with this piece, and think it is so true, we all have done it, and many probably always will. I most definitely agree with your final statement about our conscience getting to us, then for sure we know we have gone too far and believe me, this applies to being bluntly honest. I have had to learn how to be diplomatic. Okay, so let me have it, tell me what you really think of me :-) Love ya!I get you totally. I try to find a diplomatic way around white lies if I can as well, just not always possible. I do want honesty if I ask how something looks and I"m sure your friends appreciate your saying maybe try another pair rather than some people who might say they make you look fat. :)You know what I think of you. It's all good. :)
Hi Brianna, it's an age related thing. Once you get my age, ancient, you no longer bother with little white lies. Fortunately for on-lookers it's expected. You just go about embarrassing your children and grandchildren. Just this week at a doctors office the young assistant asked me to remove my clothes. "Great I said, now I can tell the guys a young pretty girl asked me to take off my clothes." It's one of the few pleasures of having too many rings around the trunk. Payback time, you know. :)
You're too funny John. Thanks for reading and commenting. I love hearing from you!
Hi Brianna.
Why'd you have to pick on rock hunting. I like rock hunting ... but then I don't actually take pictures of rock hunting. That's a bit much. :)
Yup, we've all been there, but it isn't always easy to admit. My mom called it diplomacy a lot of the time. And I've "hidden" from Jehovah's Witnesses. I'm just not always up for lively debate. If I'm unfortunate enough to open the door without thinking, I tell them I'm a Buddhist (not entirely untrue :)) and that usually ends it. I've accidentally (I know what you are thinking, but it really wasn't on purpose) answered the door with a large chef's knife still in my hand and that is usually good for limiting conversation; especially if you wave it around a bit while you are espousing the virtues of following the Tao Te Ching. :)
I LOVED your story. Great fun and so true.
Hugs,
Dianne
...and I loved your comment! Chef's knife in hand, hilarious! Thanks Dianne. :)
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