I remember when I started playing the horn in sixth grade. Every week, we were responsible for keeping a practice chart that showed how many minutes we practiced each day. Of course, this chart had to be signed by a parent, presumably as a check against dishonesty. But I always fudged my chart to make me look more productive than I actually was, and my mother, graciously, always went along with it.
My exaggerations were not extravagant - an extra ten minutes here, maybe half an hour on a day I didn't actually practice. Seemed believable enough, at least to me.
I recognize now, of course, how painfully transparent my lies must have been to my band director, who was a horn player to boot. Surely she could tell when I was being honest and when I was padding the numbers a little. But for whatever reason, she never chose to make it an issue.
I am always reminded of this when I visit the dentist, as I did this morning. The hygienist always asks about brushing and flossing habits. I brush three to four times a day, so we're covered there. But I am admittedly less disciplined when it comes to flossing.
And so we return to the dilemma of sixth grade: do I risk getting caught in a minor lie by exaggerating my flossing totals, or do I just admit to the fact that I probably floss once a week, maybe? After all, the hygienist just spent 20 minutes poking around in my mouth with a scraper, a mirror, and other assorted gadgets. But what exactly is she doing in there? Does she have enough to catch me in my lie?
Considering that I am otherwise a fine specimen of dental health, I opted for honesty, figuring that my stellar performance in other parts of the dental olympics would redeem myself. My strategy seemed to work, until the dentist entered the room and the hygienist immediately ratted me out as a delinquent flosser.
Note to self: remember next time that while your business keeps the clinic open, it's probably the dentist that signs the hygienist's checks. She will not be loyal to you, no matter how charming you are.
My exaggerations were not extravagant - an extra ten minutes here, maybe half an hour on a day I didn't actually practice. Seemed believable enough, at least to me.
I recognize now, of course, how painfully transparent my lies must have been to my band director, who was a horn player to boot. Surely she could tell when I was being honest and when I was padding the numbers a little. But for whatever reason, she never chose to make it an issue.
I am always reminded of this when I visit the dentist, as I did this morning. The hygienist always asks about brushing and flossing habits. I brush three to four times a day, so we're covered there. But I am admittedly less disciplined when it comes to flossing.
And so we return to the dilemma of sixth grade: do I risk getting caught in a minor lie by exaggerating my flossing totals, or do I just admit to the fact that I probably floss once a week, maybe? After all, the hygienist just spent 20 minutes poking around in my mouth with a scraper, a mirror, and other assorted gadgets. But what exactly is she doing in there? Does she have enough to catch me in my lie?
Considering that I am otherwise a fine specimen of dental health, I opted for honesty, figuring that my stellar performance in other parts of the dental olympics would redeem myself. My strategy seemed to work, until the dentist entered the room and the hygienist immediately ratted me out as a delinquent flosser.
Note to self: remember next time that while your business keeps the clinic open, it's probably the dentist that signs the hygienist's checks. She will not be loyal to you, no matter how charming you are.
