Tag Archive | childhood lessons

Undeniable

Leaning forward I quietly asked my daughter, “Do you remember the first time you lied and knew you were lying?”

Niki shrugged and said, “No. I don’t think so.”

“Well, I do.” I confessed. “I was in second grade and I hated the baggy brown stockings I had to wear to school. They wrinkled around my ankles and looked terrible. The stockings I wore to church on Sunday mornings were white and not at all saggy…probably because they were worn only one day of the week, whereas the brown stockings were continuously washed and worn. Both required a garter belt to hold them up.”

Amused by my tale, Niki asked, “How did wearing saggy socks cause you to lie?”

“Pride.” I said with a sad shake of my head. “One evening after school I told Mom that my teacher, Sister Mary Michaeleen, wanted all of the girls in the class to start wearing their white stockings to school.”

Chuckling, my daughter said, “Did Grammie fall for that lie?”

I said, “Of course not. I’m the youngest of seven children. She had four other girls before me and hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck. What I wanted and why was entirely transparent.” Continue reading