A long, long time ago, when I was around 10 years old, my dad gave us a little duckling for Easter. (My parents were divorced by this time.) It was the cutest little thing, and (because we are soooo creative) we named it Donald. (Honestly, we don't even know if it was a boy or girl.) For a while, he lived in our (unfinished) basement. (Holy parentheses, Batman! That's a lot for one paragraph. (Even for me!))
One day, we were painting, and my brother dropped the duck beak-first into the black paint. Instant, permanent mustache for little Donald.
 |
| Before |
 |
| After |
Eventually, though, Donald and his poo got too big. He got booted to the out-of-doors. It wasn't too big of a deal, though, because of where we lived. There was a little creek along our property line, and lots of wild ducks would hang out near the water. Donald had plenty of feathered friends.
There came a day when I went out to say good morning to Donald, and he wasn't in the yard. I looked everywhere for that bird, but he was gone. I ran in, crying to my mom, and she told me, "I'm sorry, Honey. The wild birds left to fly south, and Donald went with them."
I was heart-broken. I cried. I pouted. Every single time we went to a park that had ducks (and for some reason, there were several parks with ducks) I looked and looked for one that had a black mustache. I actually envisioned our reunion. I'd see him with his 'stache, I'd call for him, he'd recognize me, and we'd be together again. No joking. I was that heartbroken. And lame.
Skip ahead many years. A Christmas celebration with lots and lots of people. (Are you seeing a pattern here? If not, you really need to go read the other post about the other lie revealed.) Somehow the topic of Dear Donald came up. Of course. And once again, my mom stopped the conversation cold.
Laughing hysterically, she said, "I was horrified when I got up that morning and found Donald feathers all over the backyard!"
My reaction (in my head, because I was a respectful daughter, even in the face of deceipt) Son of a &^*^! You have got to be kidding me! Did you lie to us just so you could have the chance to embarrass us many years into the future?!?!?!
Had it never occurred to you that Donald never flew one time before he "flew south"?
Shut up.
And that it wasn't even fall yet?
I said shut up. You are a horrible mother.
Here is...the rest of the story.
Donald most certainly did not fly south.
My mom always woke up really early in the morning. That particular morning was no different. Coffee in hand, she looked out the window and saw a big pile of feathers in the backyard. She immediately called my dad. The conversation went something like this:
Mom: That %^$& duck you bought the kids is now a pile of feathers in the backyard. Get your #$% over here immediately so you can get rid of the *&^% thing before the kids wake up!!"
Dad:
He got to our house, and the two of them put the remains in a box. They combed the yard, searching for every last feather, knowing just one would give the whole thing away. Dad left to dispose of it.
We lived in a newish neighborhood out in the middle of almost nowhere. There was a pond right outside our neighborhood, and this is where my dad decided to dump Donald. As he was walking away, a man came running out of the nearby house. Apparently, the owner of the pond saw my dad and was furious. My dad made some defense of "It's biodegradable!" but the guy didn't care. He made my dad put Donald back in the box and take it with him.
Serves him right.
My dad found another field, made sure no house nor human was anywhere around, and finally availed himself of the remains.
In the meantime, we woke up. My mom told the lie about flying south. It was never spoken of again, until that Christmas when Mom "forgot" that she had never told us the truth.
Did your parents ever lie to you? Do you lie to your kids?
Have a lovely day!
photo source here
Oh yeah, my parents used to lie like cheap rugs. Badly. I was a teenager before I realised that my goldfish didn't actually change patterns from time to time.
ReplyDeleteWell, really, find me a parent that doesn't lie about a goldfish. Those suckers die at the drop of a hat! :)
DeleteAgain F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. I wrote it like this because I know how much you enjoy people using periods for emphasis. :) I laughed, I cried, it was better than "Cats!" And because my mother reads your blog, I will say no, I am certain she never once lied to me about anything.... ;)
ReplyDeleteI.Would.Expect.Nothing.Less. :)
DeleteI will be having a nice, long talk with your mom the next time I see her.
Wow. That counts. That is one thing my parents did not lie about. Even so, I was still bitter, too.
ReplyDeleteOh, that's kind of funny. And sad in a way.
ReplyDeleteWe all lie--I told my kids Mc Donald's was closed and out of french fries anyway.
Don't tell my kids that McDonald's ever opened. :)
DeleteI believed Donald flew south until you told me otherwise. And I'm a grown woman. Does that make me stupid? :o
ReplyDeleteI am a twin. My mother told us that we were born 8 minutes apart; me first. After my parents died, all of us siblings were cleaning out the house. We came across the our actual name tags from the bassinets at the hospital. It said "Twin #1" and listed the time of birth, and "Twin #2" with time of birth. We found out that we were actually 10 minutes apart! For 44 years I thought I was 8 minutes older than my sister. Now, I don't know if I could consider this a lie. Because why would she lie? That's all I know is, it was pretty shocking for my sister and me!
I'm glad I put that sentence in then. :)
DeleteMan, she took 2 minutes out of your life? Or did she add two minutes to your sister's? While it doesn't seem like much, I'm sure that fact of being 8 minutes older was mentioned hundreds of times over the years. Did you go back and let everyone know the truth?
We had a parakeet when I was a kid, and while on vacation, Dad would leave work to join us on the weekends. One weekend, while driving back to the cottage from dinner, he pulled over, all serious like he had been working himself up to break it to us, and told us that his sister had gone to the house to pick up the bird, but because it was summer and all the windows were closed because we were gone, the heat was too much for him and he had died. We were sad of course, but understood. He told us he had buried Mickey under one of the rocks bordering the garden, so when we got back to town, I asked which so I could put a little marker there. He would never tell me. I was ticked!! This went on for years, and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't tell me. Did he think I was going to dig him up?? Flash forward 20 years. It finally came out that his sister had picked up Mickey, but while driving back to her place, someone stopped short in front of her. When she hit the brakes, the top flipped off his cage and he flew out the window. She spend hours walking up and down the street calling out Mickey ... but he never answered. Still don't know why Dad didn't just pick a random rock and be done with it LOL. Oh the lies parents tell!! ;)
ReplyDeleteThe bird didn't come when your aunt called his name?! Was it a bird or actually a cat? (Great story, by the way!)
DeleteThat is an awesome lie! Hilarious that he wouldn't complete the lie and just pick a rock. He probably thought that if he did, you would want to dig it up to make a coffin for it or something. I don't understand why he told you it died in the first place. Wouldn't a bird being free to fly and be with other birds be better than the bird dying a slow and torturous death by heat?
DeleteThe whole thing cracked me up.
He definitely answered to his name at home - if he was out of his cage and in the living room, if you called him from the kitchen, he would respond.
DeleteThat's a good point about it being better to let us think he had flown off to join a flock. I feel bad that he was so stressed over telling us that he just randomly pulled the car over while driving.
Biggest lie was recent, (about 2 years ago) Keith was getting a surprise award, but my Mom had everyone (EVERYONE) tell me it was for her. I normally go to this ceremony so I told Keith I would be there. Later I went to the award ceremony stood where I normally do, waved at Keith and chatted with others who were in on the lie. Then she yelled at me because she was afraid he was going to see me. I told her I told him I was coming to which she got mad at me for. {If I'd have known the truth all along I would not have talked to him about it} Even my inlaws were there and in on it too, brother/sister in law everyone. Which i thought was weird but then when I realized it was for him I did not have my camera or my kids or anything i was so ticked. I would have loved to anticipate his response, and get pictures of it all. to top it off people kept saying "she sure fooled you didn't she" I hate being lied to! I was MAD then she was mad because she thought I should be happy. I don't like being made a fool of. Sure lie about a present for christmas, or birthday but don't lie about something that everyone else knows about. as you can tell I still get HOT about it! The only good thing my kids learned that day is DO NOT LIE TO MOM. I still can not even look at Keiths award with out feeling hot/cold and upset all at once. She ruined it for me. It was a cool thing too.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness. I would have been really mad, too. You weren't getting the award, why did you have to be kept in the dark? Did she think you couldn't keep a secret? It's all just weird.
DeleteI keep picturing your dad dumping Donald's remains in the pond and then having to scoop them up and put them back in the box. (I SWEAR I'm not laughing. NOT.)
ReplyDeleteMy mom of course laughs every single time she thinks of it. Now that 30 years has passed, even Dad can chuckle a bit.
DeleteAwww poor Donald :( I love the exchange of dialog between your mother and father. I don't recall any significant lies told to my by my parents.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother was busted some time ago, though. She used to bake pies... really delicious pies. Well one day some years back my dad caught her having bought a pie from a shop and presenting it as her own. We were all shocked. So much so, that regardless of her claims of having used to always bake the pies, we were never certain when the "change" happened.
My grandma is quite versed in the art of sneakiness lol