The Lies We Tell

The Lies We Tell ©

By Michael Casey

Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat, the cat is ravenous so seal the cat flap. We all tell lies, to our girlfriends and to our wives and then to our Priests in confession. It can be very confusing depending on how many wives and girlfriends you may have on the go at the same time, and even more confusing or even dangerous if your wives meet your girlfriends.

We all seen stories in the News of The World or National Enquirer, a fat silver haired man in shades with bad breath and body odour is somehow some sex dog, and dog is the appropriate word even though I just mistyped it instead of god. Hey I think I may have just described myself, or rather if you see my photo you may think of what I’ve just typed, you are very very cruel and hurtful, I’m telling my priest on you. You could have at least lied to save hurting my feelings,

Which brings me to my theme, we all lie. Obviously I don’t because I am a writer, I save my lying for the page. Writing is lying on paper after all, and the better the writer the greater our belief in his lies. So if you don’t like my writing it must be because I’m such a bad liar, and such an innocent. Or on the other hand because I’m such a good liar on paper you’d like to find out am I News of The World material, or not, as the case may be. I hope I’ve made that all as clear as mud, as my Latin teacher  Mr Proctor used to say in our 2 hour Latin class last thing on a Friday afternoon, see I have suffered so how about some sympathy.

I was in Aldi earlier on today, they can email me and I’ll reveal which one. Anyway as its cold I was wearing a bright red top, with my matching white hair. So I looked like Santa doing his last shop before Christmas, wearing shades so that children did not recognise him, or is that me. So I said to a couple of toddlers that I was Santa and I would grow my beard back in time for Christmas, I threw in a couple of HO HO HOs.

So you can just imagine the looks I got from them. Their children were amazed, don’t forget just how big I am when all dressed up in my winter clothes. I told the Irish checkout girl the real Santa never came to my own house as I had central heating.

We lie to our kids because it keeps them quiet, we have power over them, especially when Santa is due. Rooms are tidied and you can actually see the carpet as the sea of paper and crayons has been tidied up, as if Moses had banged his staff. We say a huge fat man will fly around the world in one night and deliver presents to all the  good kids.

Sounds like something only a politician would say, not unless the dear leader of North Korea is really Santa Claus, now that explains a lot, the Hermit Kingdom is really Santa’s workshop and all the toys are shipped to China for made in China to be stamped on them before they are sent to all the good children.

Now that is the truth but don’t tell your children, continue those lies about the North Pole and so on. Though in Birmingham around Aldi little children think its me, or my brother, now his beard is bigger than Santa’s every day of the year, whatever you believe don’t forget to HO HO HO when you switch off the lights at night, or Rudolf won’t know where to land, its all the HO HO HOs which are his SatNav, and that’s no lie.