To those of you who have followed my posts on this newsgroup, it may come as a surprise to hear that I consider myself a paragon of veracity. Yes, although it may appear that I stretch the truth sometimes, appearances can be deceiving. In fact, I can truthfully claim to be a better man than George Washington in that regard, for he could not tell a lie; I can, but I won't. Those of you who might scoff at such a claim (you know who you are) at last stand exposed as. . .as. . .scoffers, that's what; scoffers.

Just last night Patty got up to go potty, and when she came back, she was furious. "Who left the seat up?" she fumed. Well, obviously that was a rhetorical question. You can always tell one of those things because the asker thereof thinks he (or she) knows the answer. Indeed, that the answer is obvious to the meanest intellect.

Well, what do you think I did? Why, I did what I always do under all circumstances; I told the truth.

I know, I know; I was risking my marriage, even my right to live on the same planet as Patty. But right is right; no matter how much it hurts, I always tell the truth. And it didn't take long, neither: "W-w-w-willoughby did it."

"WILLOUGHBY?????"

"Errrr, yeah, that's right, Sweetie Pie. It was. . .Willoughby."

That's when she put her hands on her hips and started working her neck; "Why don't you just try and blame it on the Toilet Seat Fairy?"

"You think maybe. . ." the look she gave me froze that idea in mid-think. "Naaaw, Sugar Dumpling, I saw Willoughby do it."

"Why in the name of John Wayne's butt would he do that?"

"Well, you know how he is, Sweetness. Always trying to get me in trouble with my little Love Bug."

"How did that little bitty kitty lift that seat?"

"Sasha helped him."

You know, from Patty's reaction you'd think I was an inventor of untruths. Yet we all know that the most absurd, bizarre explanations are often closest to the truth. Maybe not close enough to shave it, exactly, but pretty close. Just think back to the first time you came home very late from a date when you were a teen and the reasons you gave to your parents; and your date's parents.

Under certain circumstances even the most rigid, unvarnished truth still has a certain ring of mendacity about it.

Exactly. And that's what I'm going to tell Patty as soon as she lets me back in the house.

Copyright © David Yehudah
February 11, 2000