We first learn to tell falsehoods from our parents when we are just young children. The lies I was led to believe, more often than not, came from my mom and grandmother, as dad was usually in the shed doing his own thing.
I remember early fabrications dating back to my second day of life, when I heard mom tell dad that they were going to give me everything they never had growing up. I’m still waiting for that Harvard education.
On my first Christmas at just 3 months of age, I was led to believe some heavyset guy in red pajamas gave me a stuffed pony and some furry pink blanket. I may have been young, but I wasn’t born the previous day.
When I was 3 years old, I was spanked for sneaking a cookie (it may have actually been five or six) from a jar on the counter. Before my parental paddling, mom said, “This will hurt me more than it hurts you,” but that was a lie because there was only one of us left crying when it was all over.
As I grew up, I continued to be told things that were not true such as if I told a lie my nose would grow. I even recall that concept being instilled further through an animated movie I watched several times as a youngster.
However, I soon realized that perhaps lying may just be part of life when the noses of my own parents had not grown as a result of their own deceit.
As a tomboy growing up, I enjoyed climbing trees and playing in the mud. After being told that if I lied my pants would catch on fire, I just wore skirts hoping to avoid any spontaneously textile combustion, but that just made climbing trees far more unlady-like.
Grandma used to tell me if I crossed my eyes that they would stay that way. Although I do have blurry vision from time to time, I don’t believe it’s related to her lie.
Why can’t people simply tell the truth? For a very long time growing up, I believed a teacher when she said swallowing gum would create a ball in my stomach. Shouldn’t she have simply gotten me counseling to help with the habit instead of subliminally teaching me it’s OK to deceive people?
An employer once told me I was getting a promotion before giving it to someone else, a friend told me I looked great after I intentionally wore horrible attire just to see what she’d say and a boyfriend once said he was going out to get cigarettes – but I never saw him again.
I read somewhere that babies start lying at about the age of 6 months, when they deceive their parents by crying without a true need but rather just to gain attention. Itty-bitty liars.
I met a sweet little ol’ Southern lady recently, cute as she could be. I don’t think she’s ever lied a day in her life. I was telling her how I felt about all the lying and how upset I was with people and their deceit. She let me vent for quite a while before putting her hand on my hand.
She looked at me sweetly and said, “Bless yer little heart.” She made me believe I could trust again – yay!
Anngee Quinones-Belian lives in Murphy. She loves humor and believes the world needs more of it. Email her at anngeeq@gmail.com.