All of us do it time to time. Yeah, those harmless white lies that spurt out of our mouths without even a second thought. Almost as a primal instinct.
You know, the teensy-weensy lies that start from our childhood. A sudden, shooting stomach pain that surfaces, just on the day of a math test. The fake fishy one, that parents smell a mile away. How, you ask? Well, one, they're clever. Two, because we're still amateurs at this game and have a long way to go. Our brilliant brain has skipped some minor details that goes into the lying process. Like the fact that we came up with the exact stomach pain only last week, right before that science exam. We could have at least moved the anatomy a bit this time - maybe to the hands. But, then, if we had been that smart, we would've studied for the math exam, eh? Anyways, since parents love moments like these for its pure entertainment value, smirkingly go, "Oh, that's too bad, honey. I guess we'll take you to that kind, gentle doctor who uses a giant, excruciatingly painful needle, especially for kids who have aches before their math tests." Our first attempt at a lie - totally crushed. Do we give up? Heck, no.
Note to self: For next week's spelling test, remember to shift the pain to your big, bumbling head. And, for heaven's sakes, clean up your fake act. You stink.
Now, fast forward. Blame it on evolution, but we're all grown up now. Working in a prestigious firm. We're either a hard-working, important employee or an inefficient, lousy slave, both of which makes it impossible to take timely breaks. And, we desperately want to take a day off or think we're going to collapse on the office elevator. How to handle such a mature situation? After flexing our brains a bit, ha, the perfect solution just hits us. Elementary. White lies to the rescue again. Let's see. Dental appointments, flu, cold for us - plus endless extensions to our spouse and children. We're getting better at this game by now.
Note to self: Next week, you plan to take a few days off, so remember, the only unused body part left is your big toe. So, toe surgery it'd have to be. And, for heaven's sakes, clean up your fake act. You still really stink.
You know, the teensy-weensy lies that start from our childhood. A sudden, shooting stomach pain that surfaces, just on the day of a math test. The fake fishy one, that parents smell a mile away. How, you ask? Well, one, they're clever. Two, because we're still amateurs at this game and have a long way to go. Our brilliant brain has skipped some minor details that goes into the lying process. Like the fact that we came up with the exact stomach pain only last week, right before that science exam. We could have at least moved the anatomy a bit this time - maybe to the hands. But, then, if we had been that smart, we would've studied for the math exam, eh? Anyways, since parents love moments like these for its pure entertainment value, smirkingly go, "Oh, that's too bad, honey. I guess we'll take you to that kind, gentle doctor who uses a giant, excruciatingly painful needle, especially for kids who have aches before their math tests." Our first attempt at a lie - totally crushed. Do we give up? Heck, no.
Note to self: For next week's spelling test, remember to shift the pain to your big, bumbling head. And, for heaven's sakes, clean up your fake act. You stink.
Now, fast forward. Blame it on evolution, but we're all grown up now. Working in a prestigious firm. We're either a hard-working, important employee or an inefficient, lousy slave, both of which makes it impossible to take timely breaks. And, we desperately want to take a day off or think we're going to collapse on the office elevator. How to handle such a mature situation? After flexing our brains a bit, ha, the perfect solution just hits us. Elementary. White lies to the rescue again. Let's see. Dental appointments, flu, cold for us - plus endless extensions to our spouse and children. We're getting better at this game by now.
Note to self: Next week, you plan to take a few days off, so remember, the only unused body part left is your big toe. So, toe surgery it'd have to be. And, for heaven's sakes, clean up your fake act. You still really stink.