Astrid’s Guidebook to Lies

I suppose I need to pause here to explain that yes, on occasion, my mother lies. But it’s important to note that she has levels of lies, and rules surrounding each. Sort of like the Church of Scientology and their levels of Operating Thetans, her rationales don’t always make a lot of sense. But this is how I break them down in my head.

The Invisible Lie

This is your run-of-the-mill white lie, the type we all tell multiple times a day without even thinking about it. For example, say you’ve just been diagnosed with a terminal illness and your waiter/bus driver says, “How are you?” And you say, “Fine.” Because it’s understood that they don’t want to know the truth. They’re just being polite. And you don’t feel like telling a stranger anyway. You both want to move on with your day.

The “Give Peace a Chance” Lie

We all tell this sort of lie, to spare someone’s feelings. An example: A couple of years ago, Astrid’s waitress friend Gina asked, “Does my butt look big in these pants?”

Now. Gina is a large woman, with a butt to match. So, yes, her butt looked big in those pants. But Astrid didn’t miss a beat. She answered with an emphatic “No.” When I called her on it later, she said, “Ask yourself this, Felix: What good would come of me telling her yes? She already worries about her weight. I don’t need to add to her self-esteem issues.”

“But you’re her friend. Shouldn’t friends tell each other the truth?”

“Sometimes people don’t want honesty; they want a little comfort. Besides, her butt looked no bigger in those pants than they did in any of her other pants. And it’s a perfectly good-looking butt, a very proportional butt. So technically I wasn’t lying.”

The “Embellishment” Lie

Astrid would argue that embellishing isn’t lying, it’s just adding some flavor, like putting more spices into a dish. For example, she will pad her résumé with things that aren’t, shall we say, accurate, depending on the type of job she’s applying for. When she was first looking for restaurant work, she wrote that she had “extensive experience in the service industry.”

“Since when?” I asked when I read it.

“Since you were born. I’ve been waiting on you hand and foot ever since.”

The “No One Gets Hurt” Lie

These are bald-faced lies aimed at helping out the liar in some way. But—and this is crucial—they harm no one.

This type of lie will become clearer in a moment.

And lastly, there is:

The “Someone Might Lose an Eye” Lie

These are the worst types of lies, the kind that have the potential to hurt the teller, or the tellee, or both.

Astrid doesn’t tell these often, and when she does, I don’t think she does it on purpose. For example, I don’t think she meant to lie when she told her friend Ingrid she’d pay her back the five hundred dollars she borrowed. Or when she told her friend Karen the same thing. I think she believed she would pay them back. But she didn’t. She didn’t return Ingrid’s expensive makeup kit, either. They felt hurt, and used, and eventually they cut her out of their lives. Which was a bummer, because Ingrid’s daughter Violet had been my favorite babysitter. But once Ingrid vanished from our lives, so did Violet.

Come to think of it, my mom has pushed a lot of people away with this type of lie. Including Daniel, the man who happens to be my dad.

Anyway. I just needed to explain these categories before I continue with the story. Because Astrid is about to tell a No One Gets Hurt and a Someone Might Lose an Eye, all in one day.