A few weeks ago, my husband and I made the trek over to our new neighbor's house for the first time. We got to pretend to be adults, and I think the neighbors may have even fallen for it. We toured the home, drank some wine (lots of wine-they're my new best neighbors), ate a delicious meal-served course by course-on a dining room table (I know! get out!) and chatted about our lives and yard work and gossiped about the other neighbors.
It was delightful, and yummy, and fun, and nerve-wrecking, and so many other things. And of course, deceitful-you know what I mean, those funny little lies that you tell with your significant other to people you are just getting to know so that they think you are nicer, or sweeter, or funnier, or smarter, or richer, or whatever-er than you really are. Nothing harmful to your health or anything like that.
Well, that is, if you're not me. If you were me, you would actually do something as dumb as lie about something that is quite important that probably will come up in the future and is potentially kinda harmful! You see, I walked in to their beautiful front living room and their cute little cat came to greet me and I said, "Oh hello kitty" and they told me that they loved their cats, and oh-you're not allergic are you? and of course I said, "Noooo, not me."
Which by the way, is completely inaccurate!
You see, I am in fact allergic to cats. But, it just happened, it just came out of my mouth, the way that you tell your mom-I don't know what happened, someone must have backed into my car or you tell your new boyfriend-oh no, I just wake up looking like this. When, in actuality, we all know its not true. But mom's always know the truth, and someday that boyfriend will really see what you look like when you wake up, but how do I break it to the neighbors that I really can't touch their cat.
Now-it's not life or death, I can just take some good meds before I head over there, but then I'd have to leave it up to my husband to explain why I passed out in the middle of their salad course.