March 31, 2005

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies

I want to prepare you, pumpking, for something that may come as a shock to you. I'm going to lie to you.

I'm going to couch this by saying that I'm going to be very careful to make sure that the lies I tell you are for your own good, and that I will only ever shield you from the harsh truths of this world, but I'm fairly sure that this isn't true, and that it's likely that I could easily fall into the trap of telling you lies purely for my own amusement.

I hope I'm going to be able to restrain myself from being that petty, but I'm just warning you about it now. Here, then, without further ado, are some lies that I might tell you that are, in fact, categorically untrue.

  1. Your grandfather Jon did never, has never, will never play the bass in Elton John's band
  2. Neither I, nor any immediate member of your family invented: ethernet cable, taxicabs, clothespegs, turning left or flourescent lightglobes
  3. There are no fairies, tigers, elephants or hippopotamuses at the bottom of our garden


It's of course also true that there are some things that I'll tell you that might SEEM like lies, but that are absolutely true, namely things like the fact that we seriously considered naming you Pumpkin (ok sorry actually that's a lie too) or that your Uncle David was once on Neighbours, (true), that your great-grandmother once snuck on board a bomber in a run over Germany (true), that your great-great-great-uncle was a world famous author (true), that your grandfather has met the Queen, the Emperor of Japan and three Australian Prime Ministers (but it's your grandmother, punkling, who's kissed two of them) (true). And that's only one side of the family.

Your uncle is a famous football player, your great aunt has sung in the Royal Albert Hall and your great great uncle, punkin, was the Lord Mayor of Dublin.

Gosh that looks like a lot to look up to and work towards. Of course, I'm going to be deleriously happy and immensely proud if you decide to be a plumber. As long as you give your poor destitute old man a discount, that is.

Oh, one more thing.

I didn't invent the lawnmower either.

Love you.

2 comments:

Liz said...

It's true, PK, your Dad will tell you lies simply for his own amusement. I’m desperate for you to get her so he can focus his attention away from my pliable (some say gullible, I say open and trusting) mind. Sometimes it’s really disappointing to find out something his said isn’t true (I usually find out when he starts laughing and pointing at me).

You should also be wary of Harry. For a start, his name isn’t even Harry but that’s too confusing to get into right now. ‘Harry’ too will tell you lies. His lies largely revolve around what the Scottish invented. You will regularly hear him say ‘we invented that’. Now, the Scottish do appear to have come up with some pretty amazing stuff (by an odd coincidence I read only last night, before I read this blog entry of your Dad’s, that the Scottish invented the decimal point) but most of what you hear Harry claim is in fact untrue and often stupid.

Pumpkin, I’m here when you need me. I’ve needed you for ages. We have to watch each others backs against all the liars. I do hope you’ll be on my side.

See you soon.

lindanana said...

Well my sweet Possum, I can promise you one thing - your Grammy Linda won't tell you lies. I may not always tell you ALL of the truth, but I won't ever lie to you. You can rely on this and when your Dad and uncles start telling porkies, just get on the phone and call me - I'll tell you the truth.
And just for the record, when I kissed Bob Hawke (or more to the point when he kissed me) in the back bar of the John Curtain Hotel He wasn't yet the Prime Minister. And I didn't kiss Bill Clinton when I met him, although we did have a photo taken. I'll show you one day. Promise - and that's the truth.