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Why Lying Isn't Fresh
Everyone has their fair share of interesting stories and lessons. I also have some stories to share, even if they’re not super dramatic. Today, I’m going to share with you how I learned that lying isn’t the best thing since sliced bread.
It was a dark and stormy night. Well, not really stormy, in fact, not stormy at all, and I just said that to add dramatic effect. The family and I were having a rousing rendition of one of Nintendo’s best titles: New Super Mario Brothers: Wii. At the time I was but a youngster around the age of seven or eight. Once we had passed the much too difficult Soda Jungle and defeated Iggy koopa, we had all decided it was that time of day. The time in which we partake in various flavored foods to celebrate the occasion of nightime. It is known to some as supper or “dinner” time if it helps. From this epiphany of hungry proportions, an uproar began. Some wanted the flavors of our neighbors to the south, and some craved for some good old fashioned Chinese piquancy.
“I’m fine with whatever, but Mexican sounds great!” Mother cried with an innocent grin on her face.
“Maybe, but what about Chinese?” Father replied persuasively.
Ultimately, after long debate, we decided on the highly praised restaurant known as Five Guys: Burgers and Fries. A flurry of thoughts came to my mind at that very moment. To say they were thoughts of food wouldn’t do my thoughts justice. They were more, thoughts of burgers, fries, and delectable, frosty Coca-Cola. So, yes, food. We galloped into the night, and reached our destination. We left our trusty steed, Honda Pilot, to fend for itself in the bitter ruthlessness of the parking lot. We entered Five Guys, greeted by the sound of peanuts crackling at our feet. But then we had another epiphany.
“Can we eat it at home while playing Mario Bros. Wii?” Asked my brother Evan, his hopeful, innocent eyes unable to be turned down.
“What a fabulous idea!” We all murmured in disbelief.
When we reached our home, we immediately dashed upstairs to boot up the game, leaving the dark, lowly quarters known as downstairs untouched. After we finished eating our burgers, my father entrusted me with the garbage.
“Jared, could you throw this out downstairs for me?” My Dad requested.
“Downstairs? I could never possibly go downstairs!” I thought, “Too dark, too agonizing! But I can’t tell anybody that... I’m not a baby!” I thought to myself.
There was however, another option. A garbage that was...upstairs. Not wanting to reveal my fears, I instead walked out of the room, garbage in hand. I then stomped my two feet as if I had gone down the stairs, and threw the garbage out in the upstairs garbage can. I walked back into the room, full of guilt. Although they suspected nothing, I still felt severe darkness lurking inside of me.
A month had passed, but I hadn’t forgotten about the events that had taken place. We had just finished up a trip to Disneyland, and I couldn’t properly have the fun that I was supposed to because I was so guilty. During the events of the carriage ride home, on a night very similar to the events that had taken place a month before, I confessed to my parents what I had done. My Father had no idea what I was talking about, and had no recollection of the events that had occured. Since this was the case, my father then thought that I had a quarrel with him, and had very hurt feelings. Once our steed arrived home from Disneyland, I explained to my Dad what had happened again and he seemed to understand and later forgave me.
I learned from this experience to not lie or it’ll all come crashing down sooner or later (See: Larryboy and the Fib from Outer Space for more). I’m still human, and I will make many mistakes, but this experience helped me learn from one of them.