... is that sometimes I tell little white lies.
I usually pride myself on being a pretty honest person. I also pride myself on being a pretty nice person. Sometimes those just do not meet. It may be an outfit that my sister is wearing that I think gives her muffin top, it may be an event that I am just too exhausted to attend. The truth is often just a little harsh to escape my mouth (that top makes your perfect figure look chubby round the middle, I considered something more important than staying refreshed for your event) so... I lie sometimes.
The lie can be by omission (the truth but not the whole truth) and sometimes it can be a fabrication but the lie usually contains an essence of truth. "I think it would be better without the belt, with the shoes it's just too matchy" sounds nicer than "that belt really emphasises your roll" and illness can work as a cover for fatigue. I feel bad about those lies, but not too bad. Sometimes it really is better to lie than to hurt feelings.
When I feel really awful is when it is an out-and-out porker, a lie purely to save my own skin. It happens very rarely, and would never happen with someone I loved, but it does happen. Like today for example... ahem. Ten minutes before my shift started, I rang work to say that I had been suffering car troubles but that I would be on my way. Yeah, the trouble would be that I had been woken up from an unplanned nap by a frantic mother about twelve minutes before shift started... ooops.
So tell me Scribblettes, are there any occasions in which you think it's okay to lie? What's the biggest whopper you've ever told?