Trick or Treat?

First Lie

I didn't know I was a Liar until a neighbor pointed and decried my character to my mother. Apparently something I had done/said prompted her to consult my mom, presumably as a "good deed", which was followed by a wagging of her montrous finger in my face and the name change to Liar. My primary memory from this encounter is one of confusion. I couldn't understand why she would call me that when all I had done was tell a story. Couldn't she tell the difference? And since she couldn't, wouldn't that make her the liar?
I don't remember what "story" I told, but I do remember the stories I told my younger brother. He was a captive audience and one whose naivete forgave my lapses in continuity and stretched the boundaries of willing suspension of belief. I told him that I used to own a hovercraft but when he was born I could no longer afford it. At the ripe age of 6 I was forced to downgrade and exchange it for a helicopter. Of course he wanted to know where that was. I imperiously informed him that it was YEARS ago and how could he possibly think I would still have such a thing. I was soooo over helicopters.
Later, when we had moved to the Flatlands, I convinced him that I was actually Jack Frost. During the winter our storm door displayed the most beautiful patterns of frozen condensation. It looked like tiny, delicate leaves, vines and paisley designs. I told him that when I couldn't sleep at night (the time most of my activities took place), I would use a straight pin or safety pin and engrave the designs in the frost on the door.
Not all my stories were for evil. When we shared a room he still occasionally wet the bed and was always embarrased about it. I told him I made him do it everytime by putting his hand in warm water (always when he was sleeping and I couldn't). It did deflect the responsibility but got me a few beatings when it happened again.
But I never lied...I just told stories.

posted by Charity @ 2:19 PM