 - by Oy! Nothing bugs me more than when sanctimonious twits go on about how you should never, under any circumstances, lie to your significant other, be it a spouse, life-partner, etc. Ok, that's not entirely true. There are several things that bug me more, not the least of which are telemarketers, each of whom I hope contracts a fatal mouthpiece-transmitted disease, but sanctimonious twits are definitely up there. "I'd never lie to my husband/boyfriend," she usually says. These people are usually, but not always women. "We have a totally honest relationship." Usually, the male in question manages to be out of the room or otherwise unavailable for immediate comment. Then the woman will say something about "soulmates" that makes me want to retch. Don't get me wrong. I'm happily married, and I wouldn't trade my wife for anything (not in the current economy, anyway). Nor would I ever deliberately behave in a way that could possibly endanger our marriage. However, let's be realistic. Sometimes, it's appropriate to lie; plain and simple. Several years ago, my wife (I can't remember if she was my fiancée or my girlfriend at the time) and I were sharing a "romantic moment." She broke the silence and asked me a simple question: "What are you thinking about?"
Let's step back for a minute. Any two-bit goof knows the correct response. I don't
care what country you're from, or what culture, there's a general battery of correct
answers.
. . . And so forth. Any one of those answers will safely get you off the hook.
Me? I'm not just any two-bit goof. I'm a two-bit goof who came up with a fantastic idea at that exact moment. I decided I wasn't going to use a "safe" answer. I was going to be utterly truthful and honest. I was going to demonstrate my love for her with unleashed pure, untainted Truth - with a capital "T." Yes, it was a daring sociological experiment, but I had to satisfy my curiosity. Let's return to the dialogue: Me: Ding-Dongs. Girlfriend (GF): What? Me: Hostess Ding-Dongs. GF (not smiling romantically anymore): What are you talking about? Me: You asked me what I was thinking about, and at that moment, I was thinking about Hostess Ding-Dongs. GF: Why were you thinking about Hostess Ding-Dongs? Me: I dunno. Haven't had them in years. That's what I was thinking about when you asked the question. GF: Ding-Dongs. Me (nodding): Hostess Ding-Dongs. (about twenty seconds of silence)
GF: Great. Now, I want Hostess Ding-Dongs.
As we can see, by being honest, I created an uncomfortable situation. I didn't act inappropriately; I merely spoke the truth. I'm quite lucky that the situation defused itself as easily as it did. If I'd been thinking about computer parts at that moment, our relationship might have veered in a different direction. To perpetuate a successful relationship, you have to lie to your partner on occasion. My wife feigns interest when I show her some new computer program. I make an effort to keep track of the plot when we watch drawn-out romantic movies with running times that make "Titanic" look like a commercial break. Here's another good example; my wife is generally an excellent cook. A few years ago, she prepared baked ziti for dinner. I took a bite, and withheld a wince. It was sweet. Really sweet. I know my wife occasionally puts a pinch of sugar in the spaghetti sauce, and I've never agreed with the practice, but this was really, REALLY sweet. I'd managed to down about three bites when my wife asks me what I think of it. I hesitated, perhaps a little longer than I should have, and said "It's pretty good." "It's not too sweet?" she asks. Well, she brought it up... "I suppose it's a little sweeter than I usually like it..." If I had been totally honest, I would have jumped from my chair, spit that first bite of baked ziti into the sink, spit several more times with comical "Ptoo! Ptoo! Ptoo!" sounds, followed by about five minutes of nose-wrinkling and scraping my tongue against my front teeth while my eyes teared up. But I refrained. It turned out that when my wife added her pinch of sugar to the sauce, she tipped it out of a resealable plastic cup, and a fist-sized clump of sugar fell into the sauce and crumbled. She tried salvaging the dinner, scooping out as much sugar as she could. At least she was nice enough to let me off the hook. With her blessings, I fed the remaining ziti to Maurice (more on Maurice in another article) and we made alternate dinner plans. She was a little upset at herself, but I couldn't hold it against her. If she could forgive me for accidentally using Raid instead of Windex to clean the bathroom, how could I not forgive a botched baked ziti?
Was I wrong? Should I always be open, honest, and truthful in each and every respect?
When my wife asks me "How does this dress look on me?"
should I lie?: "It looks very
nice." Or do I tell the truth?: "I have no idea.
I have no fashion sense at all. You'd do much better to ask the plastic Magic
8-Ball on my desk."
In conclusion, here are some purely hypothetical examples. You judge whether or not the truth is preferable in each case:
1) "I need to go shopping. Would you come with me to the mall?"
2) (over the phone) "I'll be home in an hour. Have you done the dishes
yet?"
3) "Let's eat out. What are you in the mood for?"
4) (pointing to some ultra-attractive, on-screen movie star) "Is
she prettier than me?"
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