Good for Everyone
A long time ago in Sunday school, I was taught that there is no such thing as a white lie. The teacher told me that there is no difference between not telling the truth about whether you took some cheese from the pile Mom was grating (I did), or a first degree murder. All sins are the same in the eyes of God. We could probably have some fun debating this theology, or discussing the amount of guilt I had in my childhood, but that isn't the point of this intro. Point is, I believe there are certain lies that are ok because they are good for everyone.
You know some of these. There are some standard scripted lines along this vein -- "No honey, those pants don't make you look fat", and "sorry, I have other plans tonight", but those are mostly just cultural politeness principles. The one I have in mind is a bit more fundamental.
So here's the deal -- Becky thinks I'm good at fixing house problems. And I feed this misconception with lies. 90% of the time I fix something around the house, it was due to luck, persistence, or both. Often times I don't even know what I did that got it working.
But when the wife asks how I did it, it's always "don't worry about it", or "no big deal", or "I just had to [insert fancy sounding verb] the [insert fancy sounding noun]. It's like home improvement Mad Libs around here. This weekend, I 'fixed' the sump pump and the range hood vent with a little jiggling (the former) and electrical tape (the latter). Then I paraded around like Bob freaking Vila.
Do I feel guilty? No. Here's why -- Becky would rather believe that I'm handy than not. I'm sure that subconsiously, she knows I'm not much of a handy man, but she prefers to think that when I take the sink apart and put it back together working, I knew what I was doing (and not getting *extremely* lucky). Maybe it validates her decision to marry me in some small way. Maybe she is pumping up my confidence, hoping I'll get better at this stuff. But this is a lie that is good for her. She wants to believe. My lies only feed the faith.
And for me? I get to feel like a fix-it machine. I learn stuff along the way without getting my deserved ego blow. It's like sending a struggling shooter to the free-throw line -- eventually they might get their confidence and find their touch.
All good. Except for that debt of exaggerations and misinformation I'll have to iron out with St. Peter.
