First Lies
Eight years ago my life was filled with rules. Being a small child as I was, however, I preferred to consider these rules to be mere suggestions, rather than actual stipulations. It is because of this belief that I am often thought to have been a mischievous child, but in reality what small child doesn’t live in complete bliss from their lack of responsibility? Who doesn’t remember childhood as a time of freedom? After all, as a kid the world was mine to make of it…
It is in this spirit that we look back on what I remember to be my first ever lie.
Late one fall night, little first grade me was preparing for bed. This by my standards involved a rousing verse of SpongeBob Square pants accompanied by the classic lap around the house at full speed. Unfortunately my parents seemed to think otherwise. Their idea involved a bath, a toothh brushing, and many other things my highly excitable mind chose to consider below me. I was completely content in merely passing out whenever and wherever I deemed satisfactory. And so the question arises…
“Did you brush your teeth?”
The affront came in the form of my father, as it was his opinion that my teeth’s hygiene remain of the utmost importance. But honestly, who has time to brush their teeth when their saving Barbie from the untold destruction of Reptar? I certainly didn’t. It was in this moment that I knew my teeth remained un-brushed. I also recognized the threat in admitting this fact, but to overcome it I would have to lie, full on lie. But, keep in mind I really didn’t want to brush my teeth. So I squared my tiny shoulders and looked my father straight in the eye: “Yes, my teeth are clean and ready for sleep.”
As the words left my mouth I realized how final they were. There was no going back now, and in my small mind I saw sin as soon as it left my mouth. Now I was really a bad kid. I had lied. The full weight of it hit me as I stood there at the foot of my stairs, and I gasped; now I had no choice, I had to run.
So I flew: Up the stairs, around the corner, over the cat, through the door, across my room and finally under the warm embrace of my covers. I lay there considering my crime, knowing at any minute that I would become a criminal, waiting for some defining moment, I shivered. Maybe, I’d be shipped off to jail, fed to some lions, or even forced to eat carrots. I didn’t know, but what I did know is that I was the worst of the worst, and that punishment had to be coming.
Looking back, I didn’t sleep at all that night, and upon waking up I brushed my teeth six times and gave my father an extra big hug.
Of course, I now consider this particular event of little significance. As I grew I watched my ability to take risks grow as well and, in the grand scheme of things, brushing my teeth for a night was not sorely missed, just as my father had barely blinked at what must have been a particularly obvious lie. In my maturity I have learned to decipher the significance of truths and lies, as well as when the appropriate time to use them might be. I also find myself sorely missing the days when such an offence would have been the biggest of my mischief.
