Friday Follies - Lies Are in the Eyes of the Beholder

An integral part of growing up is learning that perhaps some of what our parents told us was not, in fact, the gospel truth, but a big pack of lies.  I think most of us were told the most common lies, such as:

• Eat your crusts so your hair will be curly (bad example - I ate my crusts and voila!  Curly hair.)
• If the wind changes, your face will freeze that way.
• If you swallow an apple seed, an apple tree will grow in your belly.
• Don't swim for 20 minutes after eating.
• The dog/cat/hamster/rabbit didn't die, it went to live on a farm.
• No, you can't have any coffee, it will stunt your growth (okay, this one may have been true for me too!).
• Don't sit on the cold surface, you'll get piles.
• If you tell a lie, your nose will grow.

Then there are the cultural lies that we are all told about Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. Those are my favourite childhood lies, I think they built a depth of fantasy into our existence as children and created a very special magic that once lost, is never regained.

When we lived in Wollongong, my parents used to tell my brother and I one particular lie when we went to the beach for picnics.  They very earnestly used to tell us that if you could sprinkle some salt on a seagull's tail, you could catch it.  Scott and I would spend hours with the Tupperware salt shaker, chasing the seagulls around the beach and park.  It took me years to realise (perhaps after quoting it as fact to someone else) that this was a big fat lie and had the dual purpose of keeping Scott and I away from Mum and Dad for awhile and using up some of our energy.

We were so proud to own a genuine Platypus Hunter

Some falsehoods were told with entertainment being the only purpose.  When we moved from Australia to Canada, our little dog Dofor (pronounce Doo-for) came with us.  He was a cute little guy - a black and white fox terrier poodle cross, with these gorgeous black patches on his eyes and a feathery plume of tail.  He was a great rescue dog from the RSPCA, and at the end of the day, just a mutt.  In those days, it wasn't as common as it is now to put your pet on a plane and fly it half way across the world.  Everyone in Canada thought that he must be a very special dog indeed.  And so he was....according to Dad.  Dad told everyone that Dofer was a purebred Platypus Hunter.  They would be very impressed and ask if he was any good.  Well, yes, said Dad, do you see any platypus in Canada?  All were awed by Dofor's skill.  Of course, Dofor's best skills were escaping from the yard and fornicating with the neighbour's dogs.....and humping our cat Fred.

I think I see a platypus...or the cat!

That's our Dad - a true artist in deception.  Especially when it came to his kids.  In 1976, it was decided that we were going to move to Australia.  I don't remember a lot of what went on around this decision as I was very young, but I did know that we had to find homes for our dogs and cat, and had to get rid of most of our possessions as it was very expensive to send things to such a far away location.  One Saturday morning, we got up, ready to watch Saturday morning cartoons.  Dad gathered us around and announced that we were leaving for Australia tomorrow.  I was horrified - our pets were still there, and we had no time to say goodbye to our friends.  Tears ran down our faces, panic struck at our hearts, and our child-brains could not comprehend any of this.  It was all too much.  Dad was kind enough to let us know - not terribly quickly, mind you - that it was all a joke, we weren't leaving quite yet.

Another of his classic lies was about my rabbits.  My brother and I were in British Columbia visiting our grandparents for school holidays.  One April Fool's Day, Dad called us to tell me that my rabbits had escaped from their hutch in the backyard and couldn't be found.  I was awash in tears and devastation, wanting to go home to help find my pets.  Fortunately he called back to put me out of my misery later in the day.  I can tell you that I didn't find it nearly as funny as Dad did.

If anyone every wonders why I'm a little touched in the head and may need therapy at some stage, please re-read this blog.  I think it explains everything. Cats aren't the only assholes, are they Dad?

 

Stories of Twitch's death were greatly exaggerated