I don’t really lie. No, I am not saying that I have never lied or that I don’t ever lie but I really hardly ever lie. My older daughter probably wishes I did, “You’re the greatest dancer in your class. Yes, absolutely I will spend all of our nest egg on dance lessons for you because you will one day become a prima ballerina”. Yeah, that isn’t exactly what I said when my knee jerk honesty kicked in.
That being said, I have been lying by omission for the past month. Okay, not like every day, but at least twice. Since I don’t exercise the lying muscle very often I was having a hard time keeping a secret from my husband.
The other night we were lying in bed reading (well, he was reading and I was thinking about my lie) and it was one of those moments when I just felt warm and kind towards my husband. After nine years together these moments aren’t quite as regular as the rising and setting of the sun. In this moment of comfort and vulnerability I say to the man that I married, “Honey, I need to tell you something but I want you to promise you won’t get mad.” His response is typically him. He doesn’t sound worried. He simply asks, “What did you buy?”
I have no idea why he would ask that of me. After all, in the past year the only big items I have purchased without his consent are a compound bow, a Colt pistol, and pretty much a new truck. The nerve….
“Nothing”, I say. “It’s just that I need to tell you that I paid someone to come and clean the house….twice.” After this beautiful moment of transparency, vulnerability, and honesty all I get is a major eye roll. So, I begin to explain that there is only so much of me to go around. I have to cook, clean, take care of the kids, work two jobs….It was at this point that he interrupts and says, “And yet you have time to go hunting like three days a week.”
Really? That is totally beside the point. It is at this moment that I decide to switch tactics. I go from defending myself to pointing out the obvious humor in the situation. I am really hoping he will think it is as funny as I do.
I explain how Monica, the housekeeper who desperately needs our money, is so great and she even folds the ends of all the toilet paper and paper towel rolls in the house into a perfect, pretty, little symmetrical point. Then I explain how I run around the house and undo all of these beautiful works of art before he gets home so as not to give the secret away. I get an “almost” laugh at that one.
The hubs goes on to say that he cleans the toilets and the bathrooms occasionally and that we don’t need a cleaner. I go on to say that I would be glad to continue mowing the lawn and taking out the recycling but I really think that Monica needs us and our money and she does such a good job. “And think, honey, now I don’t have to undo all the pretty little folds in the toilet paper before you get home. We can enjoy them together” He might be amused at this point. It’s hard to tell with him.
I’m not really sure if I am in trouble now or if I will be rewarded for my honesty with Monica and her fantastic toilet paper folding skills. So, I move in for the closing argument.
“At least I didn’t tell you I was having an affair.”
“Well…that would be cheaper.”
Yep, that’s my man.