As a child, I had a bit of a chronic lying problem. Just a bit. I outgrew it, but then I discovered a new kick--saying the unexpected. I've spent a large part of my life looking like a 13-year-old kid, so I make sure to offset that by talking like a sailor.
The first time I met this person, Bill, in John's extended family, he asked me about my hometown. "What's there to do in [Hometown]?" That was my cue. "Not much but have sex." (1) People still talk about the night I met Bill.
Technically, I am telling the truth, but as Emily Dickinson said, "Tell the truth but tell it slant." I tell it in a way that exponentially increases the shock value. I can only manage this in English, so my poor family has to bear the brunt of my odd statements.
After dinner last night, Hannah had wandered off to play on the computer, and John was smiling at me across the table. I was resting after eating all that dip (see next entry) with my cheek on my hand. "You look so pretty," John told me. That was my cue. "I'm tired. And my ass burns."
(1) Since our county had the second-highest teen pregnancy rate in the state at the time, it had to be one of the top activities.
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2 comments:
This whole entry has me laughing my ass off... on several levels. ;)
Yes, I knew you might appreciate it. ;-P
John didn't think I should tell the whole Internet that my ass was burning, but as I told him, into each ass a little burning must come, and everybody has been there, hahahaha!
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