I Cannot Tell a Lie... or Can I?

I pride myself on being an honest person. It wasn't always so, but when I was 26 years old, I made the commitment that I wouldn't lie... EVER.

This is not easy. For instance, once a good friend was wearing a hideously ugly blue flowered dress. The pattern was unstylish, it was unflattering, and I did not like it one little bit. As I was thinking these thoughts, to my horror, she asked me if I liked her new dress. In a desperate effort to not lie, but to not offend as well, I honed in on the one redeeming thing about it....the buttons. I said, "Yes, I was just noticing the buttons. I really, really like those buttons." She seemed satisfied, and I was able to keep my integrity.

I'm not always that quick or strong in keeping my resolve to not lie, however....

Sometimes when I travel, I eat things that don't agree with my digestive system. This sometimes causes putrid gases to be produced in my bowels, which eventually are forced out into the air, whether I may be in a private or public setting. It's called farting.

On Sunday, while I was visiting a church in Utah, I ended up walking the halls with Baby Hippo in order to try to get him to take a short nap. As I was walking, I spotted a woman with a precious little girl baby who wore a gold knitted beret, gold and white glittered stockings, and a white fur vest. She was gorgeous. I decided to stop and introduce myself and strike up a conversation with the woman about her baby. We were the only people within a 20-foot radius, and began having a pleasant conversation about children, fertility, and pregnancy.

During this conversation, I began to feel one of these gas emmisions coming on. I knew there would be no way to stop it, but because I've had practice, I knew the gas could be emitted without sound, so that our conversation would not be interrupted. As I had hoped, this gas release was silent, but, unfortunately, it was deadly as well. As the scent wafted up into my nostrils, I was horrifed to realize that it would soon meet hers as well, and she would know that since her and I were the only ones in the hallway, that it had come from me.

To my relief, however, I then realized that I could have an out by the fact that we were each holding a baby, who could have just as well emitted gas or something worse. I was off the hook.

Just as this thought manifested itself, the woman was obviously assaulted by the stench. She wrinkled her nose, and said, looking at the precious baby girl in the gold beret, "Ooooo, I think you are a stinky girl!" She then put her nose to the back of the baby's diaper, and looking puzzled, said, "No, it's not you!"

Not wanting to lie, but not wanting to admit to my bowel troubles, I looked at my Baby Hippo and asked, in a sing-song voice, "Are you a stinky little boy? Huh? Are you? Are you?" I bounced him up and down a little, but didn't want to continue my web of deceit by actually putting MY nose to HIS bottom to pretent I was seeking an answer. But alas, there was no need to do so, for the woman with the precious baby girl felt inclined to put her own nose to MY baby's diaper to determine if he was the creator of the stench. She came away, again puzzled, making me aware that it was not him either.

I realized at that moment that although I'm a practiced silent releaser, there is absolutely nothing I can do about the contents once released, and I should have walked away when it became apparent that my bowels would manifest their difficulties. I would then have been able to avoid weaving a web of deceit out of which I would not be able to entangle myself.

I'll try to do better next time.

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)