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“Liar! Liar!

You’re pants are on fire!

You’re nose is as long as

a telephone wire!”

Remember your childhood days? I do. And believe me, the 10 kids in my family would get in more trouble for lying, cheating or stealing than we would for saying any swear word. That, and/or disrespecting Mom, would get us restricted for weeks on end, with extra chores piled on to keep us “out from under foot.”

…Not to mention the bar of soap or hot peppers that would find its way into our mouths for a good old fashioned “washing out.” I remember my brother perched at the kitchen sink one evening until I thought he turned a sickly green. Stubborn as he was back then, he held that damn hot pepper for at least an hour, drool pouring over his lips and down his chin, causing his lips to swell and his skin to turn a fiery red. Sweat on his brow, he just took the punishment, with Mom yelling at him to “spit it out!” and he just willing himself to hold hellfire longer and longer to make Mom squirm and feel guilty.

It worked: Mom felt guilty and never issued the hot pepper treatment again, and I don’t  think my older brother ever told her a lie again (or else he just didn’t get caught). For what it’s worth, the peppers were a last resort after trying Ivory, Palmolive, Irish Spring, and the wretched Lava soap. Back then, getting your mouth washed out with soap sure as hell beat choosing your own whipping switch…or worse — the belt!

If you’re crying, “child abuse,” that’s on another page. I cover that topic in depth, but not particularly because of what happened in my childhood. Really. Mom tried patience, understanding, and every imaginable loving approach to disciplining my mischievous brothers. When they grew bigger and  taller than she, I suppose these were her last resort tactics before the “just wait until your father gets home” routine kicked in. And then, talking about ‘kicking in’, we’re talking “getting a boot up your ass.” Ouch. Poor naughty boys really pushed too far sometimes.

Perhaps it is in my childhood rearing that I find my disgust with Liars.

Lying is a form of cheating. It totally erodes trust on all levels. And what is a lie, anyway?

Omission of facts is a lie.

There are no “white lies,” no “gray areas,” and no exceptions as to the truth-telling rule… or is there?

What about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?

What about lies told in the pursuit of justice, for religious reasons, or for political gain?

What about lying to a terminally ill patient?

Hold on to your hat because this is gonna be one hell of a page! I hate to be lied to and I don’t ever want to be accused of being a liar. How many friendships have I completely dissolved because I was lied to and all trust was lost? Where do I draw the line?  How many “strikes before you’re out?”

Virtually every person in my life has lied to me one time or another. Some falsehoods are worse than others. Stay tuned, and I’ll be sure to share my stories with you.

What is the biggest and most hurtful lie you have ever fallen victim to? Please share your story on The Just Call Me Charley Blog. However, be sure to keep the gossip to a minimum! There’s entirely another page for that one!

  1. Mom didn’t appreciate this blog very much, who insists that her “soap of choice” was always Ivory soap, applied with a washcloth with plenty of water to rinse. (Ivory is 99.99% pure. Remember the marketing, “It’s so pure it floats!”) I guess just seeing the other kinds of soap in the house made us kids worry that “the yucky kinds” might be used if Ivory wasn’t available. As for me, I can’t ever remember getting my mouth washed out with soap, and I don’t think my sister did, either. I only witnessed a few “washings” of my brothers, and I’ll never forget their sour faces as they left the bathroom…spitting and drooling even after they got “plenty of water to rinse.” Yuck!

    Mom doesn’t recall the hot peppers incident. As for now, I contend that it’s my story and I’m sticking to it! No disrespect intended, Mom! I asked her to comment, so stay tuned — she’s a talented writer with her own perspective and plenty of gumption to back it up! You go, Girl!

    Now, this is about to get juicy!

    Anybody else in the family remember this? Subscribe by email to this site, log in, and post your comments!

    Remember — this is not about mother-bashing, child abuse, or anything negative! It is about retelling childhood stories of yesteryear, when mothers took matters into their own hands when they couldn’t “wait until your father gets home.” That was just the way it was done.

    Gone are the “good old days.” We all now have the new-and-improved Department of Social Services to interfere with good parenting, creative punishments, and a good parent’s ability to keep their kids in line so that they will be raised to be good people. It looks like we haven’t had much luck with that tact, either, which teaches kids that they can get away with disrespecting their parents and even use false reporting to the authorities as leverage to get their own way…

    Oh — that’s at least one other blog topic entirely! Get to posting your stories, and remember, you don’t have to be a part of my family to comment. Every family has their stories. Let’s hear yours, too!

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  1. What Every Deadbeat Dad Needs to Know About Child Support and Getting a U.S. Passaport « The Just Call Me Charley Blog

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