Friday, January 8, 2010

Well intended

Some lies are OK, right? Telling people what they want to hear is not only necessary but it is civilized behavior. Little white lies are what keep the planets aligned. That's how important they are.

I bought Paul some awesome sunglasses today for his birthday (two days from today). He looks swell in them. (NOT a lie). I was thinking about the last time I bought him nice sunglasses. The kids were still in elementary school and we all spent a few days in New Braunfels, Tx., mostly playing in the rivers there, floating in tubes. Paul was not prepared for a rapid chute along one of the floats and his brand new sunglasses were lost forever to the Comal River. Ever since, he's worn cheap and ugly (again, NOT a lie) sunglasses. Until today.

Anyway, recalling Paul losing his expensive sunglasses triggered another memory. The time I sunk a Rolex watch into Canyon Lake. Ouch. After 8 years, it still hurts. What happened is, I was set to jump off cliffs into the water, but at the last minuted, thought I needed to take the Rolex off first. So, thinking - or not thinking - it would be OK to drop the Rolex into the boat from atop the cliff... a straight and easy toss down, I slipped off the watch and called to Paul below to catch it. In horror, I watched the tail end of the watch clip the boat windshield inches from Paul's hand and slide slow motion off the boat and into the deep, deep water. Canyon Lake used to be an actual canyon before the dam was built.

The thing is, the watch was a gift from my dear, dear friend Diane (who does not read this blog thank god). Did I tell her? Hell no. My lovely Paul found a similar Rolex on Ebay and gave it to me for a graduation gift in 2004. They are truly nice watches. Rolex. I didn't need or want one to begin with, but after wearing one for a couple of years, I got used to it. I liked it.

So I visit Diane soon after getting the new watch. I wear it, thinking it will never come up. Wrong. First stop we make after she picks me up at the Des Moines airport is a trendy local coffee shop. Not a Starbucks. We get our drinks and don't miss a beat in the conversation. Out of the blue, Diane says, "Can I see your watch?" Like the obedient friend I am, I whip it off like I have nothing to hide and hand it over. It has been a couple of years since she has seen the watch. On a previous visit, I didn't have a Rolex to wear so I made some lame excuse that I forgot the watch. I attempt to make conversation (distraction) while Diane examines the watch. She looks confused and says it doesn't look like she remembered. I totally brush her off and continue the conversation (distraction). It worked. She didn't say another thing about the Rolex and hands it back to me.

I admit I don't have the courage to tell my good friend the truth. Oh, I threw it into a lake and it sunk. I always felt Diane's gesture of giving me something so nice was, well nice. Urban Dictionary defines white lie as a lie with good intentions. It's good I lied to my friend. I'm a good person because I lied to my friend. I should get a frickin medal because I was thinking of my friend, not me. My friend's feelings are way more important than anything I might be feeling. Like guilt.

Mary

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I can still see dads face when he found out his glasses were gone... so sad... but the worse part was when jenny was up side down in her tube. good times!

Unknown said...

That's right Andrea, and also remember me yelling at you to get back on your tube, like it was your fault that you fell off ... I was freaking out. None of you little kids had life vests on either. It's a miracle you all survived our parenting. Mary

mary said...

That also was about the best vacation we ever had.l

Jenny Cole said...

Before the "shoot" Dad emphasized how important it was to stay centered in our tubes in order to prevent tipping. Poor Dad!