It’s funny how you can convince yourself you’re right in the face of evidence to the contrary. It makes me realize just why the French may have gotten confused during the German occupation. Nothing looked normal, nothing was normal therefore everything was normal, hence A okay. This same type of situation happened to me recently. Let me tell you what happened.
It started with my sister saying she was surprising her husband for his 40th birthday with a romantic weekend away to San Francisco. Because we usually have a family dinner over the holiday weekend this was going to be tricky.
Resorting to my old spontaneous lying ways I decided it would be a wonderful idea to say that we were going away to Whistler on Easter Weekend. I liked the little white lie so much that I actually believed it and told everyone I knew that this was the plan. We were cancelling Easter weekend because we were doing a much funner thing by going to Whistler without anybody. Easter, therefore, would be celebrated a week earlier.
My sister held up her end of the bargain, by engaging in a fake email correspondence with her friends, wherein they would extend a pretend invitation for them to go to Whistler for the weekend as well. Now there’s an email chain confirming the reality of the lie. A possible plan to go to Hornby was thrown in to make everything look complicated and therefore real.
Last weekend, after a particularly busy week, I summoned the energy to go out and buy Easter bunnies for the Easter hunt, chocolate coloured eggs for the counting egg count, purchase KerPlunk in case people weren’t already busy enough with the other activities, cook a full Indonesian dinner from scratch, while Dave cleaned the house from top to bottom for our Easter guests.
My friend called me on Saturday to ask what she should bring. Snacks. Preferably hummus from the Mediterranean hummus czar. Alright, she said. Great, I said. How come we’re doing Easter two weekends before Easter? We’re going to Whister ,I said. Skiing. It’s going to be fabulous. Yes, I know, she said, but that’s two weekends away.
Well, yes, I said. So, I’m coming tomorrow ?she asked again. That’s right, I said. Okay, she said.
The phone rang shortly afterwards. It was my friend Diane saying she was feeling quite unwell and that she couldn’t come and infect all the guests. I encouraged her to come regardless. We’re hunting bunnies. Chocolate ones I said, not real ones so don’t bring your shot gun. By the way, how was the skating round-up? That’s next weekend she said. Next weekend? I repeated. I had a small flower of doubt growing in my stomach. But then I thought to myself, why is everybody so crazy ? Easter is tomorrow and skiing at Whistler is next week. But then where does the weekend with our nephew Jarrett fit in? Who cares? Bunny hunting is tomorrow and skiing is the weekend after.
Then I called my sister to make sure she was still bringing chocolate strawberries. Oh yes, she said. Well, so how are things I asked? Good, good, she said. I just brought Jim to the airport. You brought Jim to the airport, so he’s not coming tonight? SILENCE. It’s not tonight. It’s next week. No it’s not. Yes, it is, we have all the emails. SILENCE. Are you sure those aren’t the fake emails? The web of lies leading Jim Jim away from SF. No. Really? Dinner’s all ready here. Bunnies are waiting to be hunted. I’m ready to smoke everybody at KerPlunk. SISTER, go check. No, it’s okay. Nobody is coming.
I got off the phone and wondered how I could have gotten it so wrong. But in truth, I was fine with it. I was exhausted from the anticipation of our fake ski trip and with the anticipation of Easter and from having cooked a complicated meal.
It didn’t take me long to get back on my Easter horsie and reorganize for the correct date…the date everyone sort of knew it was supposed to be except me who remained clueless until the bitter end. So this last Sunday everyone came over for veggie chili Easter dinner and the Canucks game. 7 people crammed on the 4 person couch and I forgot all about shooting chocolate bunnies. We had an Easter/Canuck cheer and we talked about how awesome Whistler would be next weekend.
I realize now that the initial Easter lie threw me off my game. I willed Easter to be over so I wouldn’t ruin it somehow for Jim Jim.
The Nasty Web of Easter Lies definitely reminded me of the good old days when I was a compulsive spontaneous liar. As a recovered spontaneous liar I realize now how weighty these untruths can be, even if they’re for a good cause like an old man’s party! It just complicates things and makes it hard to keep the truth straight.
That’s my Easter story.