These jeans I’m wearing? They look just like my old best jeans. But they’re not my old best jeans, they’re my new best jeans.
I hadn’t intended to buy any new best jeans, but then my second best jeans got a hole in them. I’d been intending to wear them to Alton Towers, so then I was forced to wear my best jeans to Alton Towers and then I wouldn’t have any clean jeans for the housewarming party the next day.
You can see my dilemma. There was only one solution for it. To throw money at the situation in the form of new jeans. Without telling my husband, obviously. Because he wouldn’t understand the need for the new jeans.
But someone knew what was going on. Someone was in on my dishonesty. And not for the first time. My daughter.
She knows we don’t lie. But she also knows that occasionally it might be OK to buy things without letting Daddy know.
Like when we went to town and he told me not to buy her anything and I only bought her a £6 Tshirt (with a 20% discount!) from M&S. That’s not much really, is it? Still best to keep it quiet from Daddy. He would never realise it was new.
Then there was the man who came to the door selling dusters and ironing board covers. I’m always polite to these people, but I always say no. But something about him and his story made me feel sorry for him. And made me agree to buy something. I didn’t need dusters, so I bought a pet towel. Because the guinea pigs are really hard to dry after a bath. It’s worth a try, right?
I agreed with my daughter that there was to be no word of the man at the door, the pet towel or the £6 which exchanged hands. The pet towel was buried amongst the guinea pig paraphernalia. When it comes out in spring it will be ‘Oh this old things, we’ve had this for AAAAAGES’.
Minutes later, I got a message from next door. My neighbour was worried the man had been casing the area with a view to breaking in. But she’d bought something from him, just as I had, and given her sons strict instructions not to tell Daddy, just as I had.
Why do we do this? Is it wrong? Are we teaching our children that dishonesty is OK? Do we do it more with daughters than sons because they’re ‘more like us’? I’d love to hear your thoughts.