I Make Stuff Up

I have been known to tell a good yarn. I get it from my father.

However, were my father would just add a bit of embellishment to spice up a story, I weave a tapestry of bullshit so thick that it is impossible to tell fact from fiction.

A few examples:
I have a younger brother. He is two years younger than me. His name is Stuart (but I call him Stewie just to piss him off). He is made up. Entirely fictional. I have told stories about my brother and I for years to illustrate all sorts of educational points. Parents and students alike all believe in Stewie.

I convinced my 6th graders that it would not snow because our school was up higher than the rest of the schools in the city. Since hot air rises it would be warmer at our school and it would not snow. (For the record, it proceeded to dump snow on the school and the rest of the city. We were out for a week).

I was once detained in the Mexico City Airport for 12 hours while they tried to ascertain how a monkey ended up in my carry on luggage. I maintained that the monkey must have crawled in to my bag looking for a banana when I had stopped at a local monkey preserve earlier that day. I was accused of attempting to smuggle an animal out of the country and had to get the American Consulate involved. I was finally released once I produced the receipt for m entry to the monkey preserve (and a banana peel). Next time I will use more anesthesia on the monkey!

All of those stories are fun to tell, are real crowd pleasers, and harm no one.

Emmy gets such a kick out of my storytelling (and how I just the audience in) that she bought me a couple of shirts. One says "I am probably Lying," the other says, "I Make Stuff Up"

On Wednesday i looked a good friend in the eye and lied to her.

I felt like shit.

This friend is a teacher at my school. For years she has wanted to teach my daughters when they get old enough to be in her class. She is a warm, caring individual and a great teacher. But I don't want her to teach my kids.

Being a teacher and a parent is a difficult balance. I see things from both sides of the desk. As a teacher I know about the inner workings of the school. I know about every child in every class (all the good and the bad information is available to every teacher). I know about teachers, parents, and administrators. In short, I have the inside information.

But, as a parent, I am part of a different community; one that is not privy to all that information. And, as it is private, I cannot share that information with other parents. As friendly as parents and teachers can be, there is a professional line in the sand that should not be crossed. While there are several parents at the school who I enjoy tremendously, there is still a level of caution that I must exercise when I am around them.

So, when it came time for class rosters to be developed for next year, I asked #1's current teacher not top put her in my friend's class. I didn't want that line blurred. I didn't want my friend to have to juggle our relationship as colleagues with our relationship as a parent and teacher. And I didn't want to juggle that relationship either. I didn't want to be mad at her for her teaching style. Or for her homework policy. Or for something that happened in her class. I just wanted to be her friend.

On Wednesday she asked me if I had requested #1 not to be in her class. I looked her right in the eye and said, "No."

I know I could have told her. I could have said, "Yes. You and I are such good friends and I don't want to jeopardize that by adding in this new layer of relationship," but I didn't think she could handle that. She would have taken it as an insult. She would have been hurt that I didn't think she could handle it.

I spoke to the Principal about it. He told me that he had a similar experience with a different teacher. She was furious and hurt that he had opted not to have his daughter in her classroom. She felt that he had chosen another teacher over her. It took her half the year to get over it. (The only reason he had chosen a different teacher was because he already had a working relationship with a different teacher who had worked with his son.)

I didn't want to go through that with my friend. She and I are both emotional people. We both take things and read in to them, creating meaning that was never there in the first place. It is for the best that we only have this one relationship.

So I chose to lie to my friend instead of hurt her feelings. It felt terrible.

I am done telling stories for a while.