Stories & Itty Bitty White Lies

So we’ve all been sick lately. Ray had Strep Throat, which made for a terrible weekend for him. High fevers, trouble swallowing… the whole she-bang. I’d been having problems with my ear, and feared I had given this terrible sickness to him but I didn’t have time to go to the doctors myself. Brian did, and discovered that he had the beginnings of Strep as well. (I finally made it to the doctor’s yesterday… By God’s grace no strep– ear infection with fluid build-up was my diagnosis).

SO. Most people who know me know that I have a general rule that I don’t lie. It bites you in the butt, makes it very hard to keep things straight, and quite frankly it’s not worth the loss of trust. I write fiction, tell stories… But as a general rule, no lying.

The story-telling comes naturally. I talked with Dad this morning, and told him about my ear and he told me a lovely story of why fluid build-up in my ears hurts like the dickens. Apparently, there is a ship in my ear, and when I shake it it causes waves. The masts rise and fall, nicking the top of my ear canal. And those poor mates trying to swab the decks are forced to run after loose cannons– every once in a while one will get away and explode– which causes the exploding pain only once in a while.  Very clearly a story, although it’s one I really really like! (I may steal it from you Dad, and make a children’s story about it!)

Yesterday was a long day for me. Went to work, hustled and bustled. Had to leave a bit early, because Auntie Gacca’s doctor office asked for her to come in early. Since she had watched Ray while he was still contagious for me– no brainer. But I hadn’t eaten except a couple of bites all day long. So. Took her to her doctor’s office, took her back home to a neighboring town, and went to see my doctor. AN HOUR AND A HALF WAIT. But, I got what I needed and it was now 7:30pm. I had a long drive home, had to take Gacca home still, and, well… I was hungry. So we hit the drive through.

Now, here comes the itty bitty white lie. When I got home, I told Brian that no, I didn’t eat at McD’s. I only got a sweet tea. Heh. AND OF COURSE I GOT CAUGHT IN THE LIE WHICH IS WHY I NORMALLY DON’T LIE!  Apparently, I dropped a couple of french fries while driving. SIGH.

SO. Why even bother? I’ll tell you. I only really do this with Brian. Why? Because it’s easier than dealing with the guilt trip or anger or pouting. I can take the consequences with everyone else, up to and including my bosses.  The truth is, lately, I don’t know what’s going on with him. There are some things that he’s dealing with, and it seems to make him upset all the time and of course the person who gets the brunt of it is me. Why? Because I stay. I won’t leave, or tell him he’s a bad person because he’s having a bad day.

Yesterday, he barely talked to me before work. Even though we shared a car ride to his work. I was in the bath-room a lot, and he didn’t ask why (violently sick, although I still made it to work, which is why I didn’t take anything substantial for lunch). I’m guessing he assumed I was in there, smoking, avoiding taking care of my responsibilities.

I wish, sometimes, that he could see the world through my eyes. That he could see the beauty and the joy and just let the other stuff fall away for a while. YES, I know that things are bad. I know that money is tight, and that yesterday was a horrible day at work and we have even more horrible things to come. But on the way home to pick up Gacca for her doctor’s appointment I saw the most beautiful sight. God had hung one of his paintings in the sky for me and I composed a (very bad) poem to him which I kept saying louder and louder about Belief.

Many people don’t get this about me. I am outwardly a very optimistic, rose colored glasses kind of girl. I know that things are bad right now. I KNOW that they might get worse and it breaks my heart. But I also believe deep down inside that there is a plan for us. There is beauty and joy even in the darkest times of life. Yes, it is hard. But someone has to be the cheer-leader. Someone has to try and make a happy home.

So what if that home has a little dust or a dirty dish or two? I never let the dishes over-flow (I can’t, no dishwasher and no counter space and a two year old with a five year old’s reach).  Complete filth does bother me, but a little dust, a little mess… not so much. Yes, I tend to nest. But that’s the way I am…. I love people for who they are.

Love me the same way.

Please.

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