We Tell Our Parents
They try to control us. We lie to them.
ADD A LIE YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS OR AN ADULT
The Lie That Saved My Butt
Back in high school, I used to smoke pot occasionally with the "burn-outs". I wasn't exactly a burn-out myself, but I was able to mix with different groups of kids, and I liked some of the counter-culture stuff that was going on.
One day, I went off campus with a friend who had brought some pot to school. We were sitting in the woods beside some railroad tracks, smoking her pipe when GASP! The resource officer pulled up in his cruiser. My friend had the pipe in her hand at the time, but he had us both get in the car for a ride back to the school.
In the back seat, I asked my friend "If I can get out of this, is that okay with you?" and she said "Sure!"
In the dean's office, our purses were confiscated and searched. Her purse yielded a fat bag of pot, a pack of cigarettes, rolling papers, a lighter, some matches, and 2 pipes. My purse had nothing in it besides some bubble-gum lip gloss, my library card, a brush, and a mirror.
The officer asked my friend about the contents of her purse, and there wasn't much she could do to explain why she had contraband or how it got there. I stayed quiet until they asked me what I had been up to by the railroad tracks.
"Well, Sir"I said politely, "I want to be a writer when I grow up. I was interviewing my friend on what it felt like to be high."
The dean looked at me skeptically, but the truth was, there was no way to prove that I had indeed been getting high. And my friend (God bless you, Steph) said that I was telling the truth.
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The Lie That Sent My Own Brother 1000 Miles Away
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|Okay, my friend called up and asked if I'd like to stay over
at her house for the night and go to a movie and a basketball game the next day. I
asked my mom and of COURSE since she is very protective of her precious little teenager (I
was thirteen, still am) she said yes, if I called her the minute anything went
wrong. So I went and it turned out to be a party thrown by her older sister, not a
sleepover. And parties eventually end up with--you guessed it--offers to smoke,
drink, etc. I of course refused everything and went outside. I didn't want to
call my mom because I figured it wasn't my friend's fault, besides she was trying to get
everyone to leave anyway. This guy came out and looked really sick and I asked him
what was wrong. He said "People are acting like idiots in there. I don't
drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs, but they keep bothering me." So I
talked with him a bit and eventually the police came to get everyone out of the
house. They saw me and Jarrod (not his name, I'm just using it because I like it)
out on the steps and asked us if we were okay. We said we were and that everyone was
inside who was doing all the stupid stuff. (might I tell you that me, my friend, and
Jarrod were the only 13 year olds there.) So it turned out that Jarrod's older brother was
taken into custody and he was too stoned to remember hey, he had a younger brother that he
had taken to this party. So Karissa (not my friend, just needed a name) offered him
a room until he could get home. My mom called just then and I ran to answer it.
(caller ID.) I told her that everything was fine and she asked to talk to Lori (not
friend's mom's name.) Lori, of course, was not home, so I said she was picking up the
pizza at Papa Murphy's. (yes, it's a real pizza place.) She said that it was
okay as long as I called her the minute something seemed wrong and I said okay. I
then hung up and went to bed, seeing as it was almost three o' clock. (pizza at three in
the morning? What was I thinking?)
I woke up the next morning and went into the bathroom and had just gotten halfway dressed when Jarrod walked in, kinda groggy. Let's just say that when he left I wasn't only half-dressed anymore. (nothing really mature happened, if you get my drift. Come on, we're 13!)
So I got dressed again and went to the movie, b-ball game, etc. When my mom came to pick me up she was pumping me for details about what we did until three in the morning and stuff like that. Then she asked why my clothes smelt like smoke and alcohol. I came up with the lamest lie ever known to mankind: "We were doing science experiments." She also noticed a hickey on my neck and asked where that had come from. Lame lie number two: "A bug bit me when we were looking for stuff outside." I could tell my mom didn't believe me and probably thought I had smoked, drank, and made love during the night when really I hadn't. She hasn't let me got to any sleepovers since unless she talks to the parent and knows the parent will be home. I hate being treated like a little kid but I guess I brought it upon myself.
AND PIZZA PARTY LIE
Lies People Tell
Young Writer Award!
She might be anonymous but she is the best 13 year old writer I have ever read. This lie was so thorough in its detail, colorful in its description and clever in its narration that we are awarding it the first ever:
Lies People Tell
Young Writer Award!
|This lie has been bugging me since I was ten
years old, so I might as well get it off my chest:
I was in year five (fifth grade for you Americans), and it was afternoon recess. I was in the classroom, though I probably shouldn't have been, and another girl and I were jumping from desk to desk. The desks were in rows and we were jumping from row to row. I went around the classroom twice without touching the floor. On my third circuit, I misjudged the distance between two rows and missed the desk, smashing my shin on the metal tray holder that protruded from the underside of the desk. My shin was gashed open, and bleeding everywhere. I sat on the floor staring at the wound and making peculiar gurgling noises. The girl who had been with me ran and got the nurse, who came in and demanded to know what had happened. I knew I'd get into big trouble if I told the truth, so I thought fast, and the best my slightly hysterical mind could produce was "I was standing on the desk reaching up to the window sill to get my pencil case, and the desk was wobbly and I fell...."
She bought it! Though by
this time I was gazing tranfixed at the huge hole in my leg and the blood gushing down my
shin, and didn't really care whether she believed me or not. Anyway, I missed PE because I
had to go the doctor for stitches. Needless to say, the doctor, my mother and my father
all heard the story. And all believed it! I still have a scar on my shin, and every
time I look at it, I marvel at why they never thought to wonder why I needed my pencil
case in the last three minutes before PE, and why it was on the window sill when I always
kept it in my desk which was on the other side of the classroom.
SCOTTISH LIE ABOUT A JUMPING DOG
As a 13-14 year old in Glasgow, I, and 3 companions, went through a phase of attempting to be burglars. Our first daring raid was on a garage containing evey concievable size of Tupperware container. We came away with about 26 containers! In our post burglary euphoria we even argued, almost to the point of fisticuffs over that age old burglars argument: WHO GETS WHAT?
It sounds so simple when it's presented like that, but, believe me, Tupperware that's been stolen looks a lot like gold. Well, it does in torchlight, especially when the torch can't be held still for excitement!
Before you could say 'Don't Be Idiots' we were climbing in the open window of the local railway station's office a week later. This time we knew we had hit BIG. The torch light swam round the room and: W-O-W.. this room had a SAFE in it! Just like we had seen in the movies, 3 to the left, 6 to the right and... PAYDIRT! Except that the noise outside, no it's not outside it's, hang on, someone is coming into the office. We look at each other and realise the night watchman has been at the pub next door and has come back to work for a wee sleep. The light comes on in the room and this elderly, rotund gentleman in a filthy brown coat enters and stands for what seems like ages, bent over peering at this watch he has on a chain. Eventually he works out what time it is and looks up. The 4 of us are all standing, frozen still and petrified, in the middle of his precious office floor.
"What the screeming sweet Jeeyasus do you think you're doing in here?" he says. And, for reasons known only to a part of my brain that I have never heard from since, I blurted out probably the most preposterous lie I have ever told in my life..
"MY DOG JUMPED IN THE WINDOW !" I said.
Surely somewhere in the creme de la creme of most preposterous excuses by a petrified teenage burglar ever!
The Everyday Lies Of A High School Student
I quit drinking.
No i'm not smoking pot. That is the smell of the pizza cooking.
I'm a virgin.
Yes, I'm still going to my classes.
Yes, I'm going to church.
And most of all, the biggest lie I have ever told and will ever tell to my parents:
I love you.
ADD A LIE YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS OR AN ADULT
CLASSIC KID LIES
It was like that when I got there.
Lies Are Self Defense
|I have told many lies. Everyone has. I cannot
recollect the amount of times I have told a lie. When I was young I used to say my father
made seven million billion trillion dollars, that my parents let me eat candy for
breakfast, and that I was really the king of some country in the pacific south west. As I
grow older I tell less and less lies, nowadays I don't lie unless I absolutely have to,
which is very rare.
I tell lies only when I am being verbally attacked, am embarrassed, or am trying to protect someone or something. Ever since I was young I would have these weird urges to lie when I am being verbally attacked. When I say this I do not mean arguments, I mean when someone starts literally attacking me with words. When this happens I simply bluff, say that I am in fact stronger then I look, and that I know people who know people. These lies that I tell are simply for my own protection, not really a habit but more like a self defense procedure. I remember when I was in 5th grade, a couple of kids started making fun of me, I got very angry. Instead of crying, yelling, and running I simply told them I knew Karate, Jujitsu, and Kung Fu. I looked at them and screamed hi-ya! They ran away and I saved my self by lying.
Have you ever got yourself in one of those embarrassing situations where you cannot do anything to save yourself but lie? There are some times when I get in a tight spot, or I get embarrassed. For example, when I say something to a girl that makes no sense, I will simply say, "Oh, umm. I was thought you were somebody else. These lies that I tell are simply made, once again, as a self-defense system.
I remember times when my sister would pee in her pants at school. I would run to her classroom and say a lie to protect her so that she would not get embarrassed or cry. I remember time when my friend would do something really stupid or really idiotic and I would cover for him by lying. All these lies I told were just so that I could protect a friend, they are not evil, but more like a way of protecting others.
I tell lies when I am being verbally assaulted, am embarrassed, or trying to protect someone. I do this all the time, I try not to, but I do. Lies to me, are not ways of being evil but in fact a way to protect yourself. All my life I have used lies as a self defense mechanism. It has worked too, it has never failed me. Lies help me be a more secure person by telling insecure things.
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Lies We Tell Our Parents
|This is incredibly sad... I am 28 years old and married and I have
still never told my parents I smoke. Cigarettes that is. Let alone pot.
Unfortunately I am not a very good liar and I think they may have figured me out. I'm pretty sure I know what tipped them off. It's not the time I went on holiday with them and had to go to the ladies' room for 20 minutes after every meal, or made strange trips to phone booths to call my husband. It's not the yellowish tinge to my teeth (my father's a dentist but I just tell him I drink 10 cups of coffee a day). It's not the aroma of smoke that clings to my clothes. It's not the strange brown patch over the driver's side of my car. No. What I think may have given them some suspicions is the time when I went to visit my mother and a packet of Marlboro lights fell out of my jacket and my mother asked if they were mine and I said, "No, they're my friend Lola's." Lola? I am still kicking myself for not thinking up a more plausible name.
|I have told lies, yes, all of us have lied. Yet, when the truth is found out, it hurts. I'm sure many people know that. I lied to my parents so many times. Maybe they did know I was lying. But I lied. All I wanted was a boyfriend. Someone that would hold me when I felt down. Someone that would give me attention. My parents didn't want me to have anything to do with the opposite sex. So I lied so many times just to keep all my relationships a secret. Somehow I always found a way to see my boyfriend. I couldn't even call guys on the phone, so sometimes while my parents were gone, I would call him. We went on a field trip for school one day. We came back around 4:30 pm. I called home and my parents weren't there. My sister didn't want to pick me up so she told me to walk. I walked with my boyfriend down a path that not many cars go by (I was very self-conscious about keeping this a secret.) We went under a bridge and started kissing. We kissed for the longest time and it started to get late. I didn't want to go home because I know I would have to tell my parents another lie and I couldn't take it anymore. My boyfriend got worried and said I should go home, but I refused to. I had no excuse to tell my parents this time- no lies that I could make up. I made up my mind to run away. I couldn't live the life my parents wanted me to. I was very serious about this, but of course my boyfriend wouldn't allow me to run away. But I didn't know what to do. It got darker outside and I know my parents where worried but I was afraid to go home and I started to cry, I had nowhere to turn. My boyfriend and I started walking toward the creek and he calmed me down. We started to kiss again, very heavily. Then I heard someone say my name. It pierced my heart and I didn't move. My boyfriend took his hands off from around me. Then I heard the words "sir, would you please go home." He left and I stood there. It was my dad. I couldn't even look at him. I just started crying and I fell to the ground.|
|This is an anonymous lie submitted through the form.|
Smoke Pot Lie
|Okay, Mom, I admit it. My friends smoke pot sometimes, and that's why my clothes smell this way. Please don't tell their parents.|
To Keep His Bicycle Lie
|My dad was a mean bastard who used to blame me anytime I hurt myself.
He'd scream: "You stupid little shit, how the hell did that happen!?"
I was always afraid of him.
Once, while I was riding a new bike that I was very lucky to have (my folks rarely gave me things), I fell and twisted my ankle badly. I made it home and my dad saw me limping off the bike and said, "That damn bike! The kid has gone and broken his ankle!"
I was immediately afraid he would take the bike away from me and I lied, "No, I twisted it playing football. Honest."
KILLER GO-CART LIE
|Sheesh -- after reading all these lies on this web site I'm starting to
feel bad about this one so I figure I'll tell you about it now. I'm 16 now but this
happened when I was thirteen.
I had made the coolest go-cart in the world. It was ripper fast and totally illegal. And I had no liscence to drive it or anything. One day I was fully screaming down this street when a cop turns down the street behind me and LIGHTS UP his flashers and starts BLASTING his siren behind me. I got so totally scared that I just gunned it! But I couldn't lose him. So I figured I'd try to cut through somebody's yard and I fully just pull up onto the side walk and start jamming across all these people's front yards.
I was ripping through flower beds and kicking up dirt and people were screaming at me and the cop was chasing me and I knew there was no way out of this so I stopped. The cop yells at me from his loud speaker: "Kill the engine and stay in the go cart!" So I did.
He comes over to me and he asks, "What's your name?" And right then it occurred to me to LIE!! I said, "Kevin Banks." Kevin Banks is this real mean kid who lives next door to me. He was always beating me up. So I gave the cop Kevin's address and phone number. The cop told me to go home and said that he would be over in an hour or two or maybe even the next day. He said he was gonna give my mom a $500.00 ticket for my riding this go cart on the street.
He never showed up at MY house.
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TELLIN' MY MATH TEACHER I WAS GONNA DIE LIE
(THIS IS TRUE!! PLEASE DON'T USE MY NAME!!)
I had a friend visiting from out of town while I was in my
year of high school. I went to school that morning very pumped, trying
to think of all the sights to show my buddy. So, as usual, I wasn't
paying attention to my math teacher. Of course, she calls on me to solve
some problem on the board. I say "Mrs. Brown, I honestly don't know how
solving this equation will help me in the future." I was going for the
cheap laughs. (C'mon., I already admitted I didn't know the answer).
Anyway, she exploded. She proceeded to call me a loser, tell me I would
never get into college, and that I would be lucky if I got a job digging
ditches for the rest of my life. All of this, in front of the class.
So, needless to say, I was bummed and humiliated for the rest of the
day. I went home, saw my friend, who was dating a hairdresser chick at
the time, and he said "I know how to cheer you up, Tracy taught me the
latest style in hair; I think I have it down. Let me give you a trim."
So I let him... but I didn't want my hair to shed on the carpet, so I grabbed
a paper bag from the kitchen and collected it as he cut. Sure enough,
the next day I go to school, and instead of grabbing the paper bag full
of my lunch, I grab the one with hair. I discover my blunder at lunch,
and go hungry. Then, walking into the restroom I get an idea. MATH was
my next period, so, on a whim, I start putting the cut off hair back on
my head. Static electricity makes it stick. I put most of it back in my
hair and no one could tell 'cause it is really stuck in there. I then went to
math class. About ten minutes into the period I pulled out my brush and
started brushing my hair. You guessed it...the girl behind me freaked,
tapping my shoulder and saying "Ohmigod..your hair is falling out." The
teacher finally yelled "IS THERE A PROBLEM?" At which point I began to fake cry, announcing I had a rare sickness, one that was fatal, and caused your hair to fall out. Keep in mind, this was 1 day after she had
humiliated me in front of the class. The next day she brought
brownies... in honor of me! As luck would have it, we moved out of state
shortly after, but imagine the look on her face when I returned a year
and a half later to graduate from my old stomping grounds, robust and
This is a true story. How could I make that one up? I'm not proud of it.
When I was in 10th grade I had this boyfriend. He was a year younger than me and he worshipped the ground I walked on. I really took advantage of him but that's another story. Anyway, I used to ask him to ride his bike over to my house around midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. I'd help him through my bedroom window and he would land on my bed and we would kiss and hold each other all night long. At dawn he would sneak away, his ten speed quietly clicking off into the sunrise.
As the weeks passed, our kissing became more passionate and our love deeper. Clothes were being removed and new realities explored. One night we made tempestuous love and the head board banged loudly against the wall of my parent's bedroom. I heard my mom get out of bed to come and look in on me to see if everything was all right. I leapt out of bed, whipped a robe on and met her at the bedroom door. I sobbed like a baby as I threw my arms around her, "Oh mom, I just had the most horrible nightmare."
My boyfriend remained utterly still, suffocating under the covers for fifteen minutes while I allowed my mom to calm me down.
When she went back to bed my boyfriend and I held each other in the darkness, quietly giggling like mad.
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