First off, I have to say that participating in the Creative Writer Award was a blast. Your answers rocked my socks off and I can’t wait to reveal what kind of a liar I am. So, without further ado, I present the stories behind the stories of my childhood.
1. I once fell wildly in love with a boy named Tad. He had gorgeous black hair and didn’t know I existed–even when I fell off the plank bridge of his treehouse from 15 feet in the air and broke my toe. Sadly, his big brown eyes were for my sister only.
TRUE. I was shimmying across the plank between two trees when I slipped. I clung to it by my fingertips, hanging there like a monkey, until I couldn’t hold on anymore. Tad ignored my distress and I landed on his dorky friend and a pile of soft pine needles and fallen leaves on the forest floor.
2. As a kid, I moved a ton–9 different schools before the ninth grade. Because of this, I also had the pleasure of being a minority and fell wildly in love with Juan and Trevon and Chang. It wasn’t until a move in the fourth grade that I realized God made “white” kids too–every last one in a school of roughly 300 students. I thought He ran out of color by the time He hit the Midwest.
TRUE. My early elementary days were spent bopping from one school to the next on the West Coast. It was quite a culture shock when we moved to a teeny Minnesota town of 708 snow-white people.
3. I wet my pants in the second grade. In front of the entire class. I tried telling the teacher a gazillion times that I really had to go, but she ignored me until it was too late. When my mom picked me up, I told her I fell in a mud puddle on the playground. It probably hadn’t rained in months.
TRUE. I was the new kid. I had no clue where the bathroom was and the teacher just kept reading her stupid picture book to the class while I stood next to her and tried to whisper in her ear. It wasn’t until I wet myself that she took me seriously. And yes, I did lie to my mom when she came to pick me up. It was easier and less mortifying than telling the truth. Thank God we only stayed in that school for a few months.
4. I put myself up for sale once. During a shopping spree, my sister and I both stood on the same side of the shopping cart. The cart tipped and we spilled out. Sis got a gash on her arm from those display hooks. I hung from one by my forehead, right next to the toys we so wanted to see. Needless to say, the only money that exchanged hands was for the butterfly stitches.
TRUE. It sounds outrageous and a bit creepy, but it is, indeed, true. My mom had to lift me off the hook like a doll she wanted to buy. I still have the scar to prove it. Right smack in the middle of my forehead. No wonder my mom calls me hard-headed.
5. My favorite playground activity was swinging across the rings. I’d do it so often my hands were calloused and I never got blisters. While trying to impress geeky-looking Daniel, the love of my life, I fell and broke both my arms. I don’t think I scored many points that day–which is a good thing, because it freed me up to marry my DH.
FALSE. While it’s true I loved the rings, I used to get huge blisters that covered my palms. I was in the nurse’s office constantly. I also loved geeky-looking Daniel, with whom I flirted endlessly. However, I was much too good at the rings to fall off. Instead, it was some other kid who gracelessly plunged to the ground. I signed my name on both his casts right next to Daniel’s.
6. Like all good kids, I threatened to run away more often than not. My mom would offer to pack my bags. However, the one time I followed through, I did so without my suitcase. We were hanging out at a huge city park in California when I got angry. I hid under the tire swing long enough that they called in the cops–helicopters and all. The very idea scares me silly now that I have kids of my own.
TRUE. This story makes me a bit queasy. I don’t remember why I ran away, but I distinctly remember feeling smug that my parents couldn’t find me under the tire swing. I ignored their calls and watched them wander around. By the time I saw the cops crawling all over the park, I was terrified to come out. The helicopter scared me beyond all reason. I don’t remember getting bawled out, but I remember my mom bawling.
7. When I was about nine, a bunch of us cousins spent the summer at our uncle’s farm. The Lord of the Flies freedom we had wasn’t unusual, but getting stranded in the bull pen was. One of my cousins and I chickened out and climbed into the wire rabbit cage in case the very angry and rather large bull broke through the meager railing. We was dumb.
TRUE. We did a lot of foolish things during our summers vacations Yet it is only in hindsight that I realize how dangerous some of them were. Our antics were, quite simply, some of the best times of my childhood. I’m just thankful everything always turned out in our favor.
So there you have it: six truths and a lie.
Wait, two lies. Yesterday I promised to pass along the award to six of my lying cohorts. However, I’m really bad at this part and firmly believe that all my blogging buddies are capable of spinning outrages tales. Why else do we write?
So instead, I will simply mention a few names of writing buddies I’ve had the pleasure of reading personally. Hover over their links to find out what I’ve read from them. Click the links and discover a fellow liar writer.
And because I’m the ultimate liar, I shall add a seventh name to my list. I do this for two reasons. One, I had to post seven dubious facts and so it seems only right that I pass along seven names. Two, I’d like to welcome a very new writer to the fold. Please check her out and support her writing journey. I’ve had the pleasure of working with her on a picture book manuscript and find that she’s talented and funny.
So, here’s wishing you the best, Elisa.