Her writing workshops are open to all level of writers and meet weekly in Laguna Beach. She hopes to start a screenwriting workshop soon.
“I believe every person is a writer with important stories to share. Come join us and discover what stories you have waiting to be told.”
The Lies of Love
“You tell us not to lie, but all you did was lie to us when we were kids.”
“Say, what?” My 16-year old daughter has caught me by surprise with her accusation. I chug some coffee and attempt to gather my thoughts. “What do you mean, Apple of my Eye?”
“Mom, you know what I’m talking about. The Hanukah bunny. Remember that?”
“I do, and I still firmly believe in her.”
“So you didn’t put those Barbie dolls on our beds?”
Remembering I had already confessed to that crime, I ask for another example.
“What about how babies are made?”
“Oh, right.” I used to tell my girls that when a man and a woman were married, God would give them a baby. That was certainly better than a stork flying through the air with a baby in a diaper. My story held water until we went to see the movie “Marley and Me” in which Jennifer Aniston tells her husband she wants to stop trying to get pregnant.
Both of my girls looked at me and asked, fairly loudly I might add, “Mommy, how can you stop trying to be pregnant if God gives you the baby?”
“Eat your popcorn,” I said. “I’ll explain later.” Which brings me to lie No. 3. I did not “explain later.” That is not until stories about the birds and the bees buzzed about the Top of the World playground.
I began to reflect on my poor parenting skills. There’s also the lie that if you’re bad, Santa will not bring you that toy. (We are a dual holiday household). Whether you are good or bad, Santa always brings that American Girl doll or Lego set.
“Magic is an important part of life,” I explain to my skeptical teen.
“Hello, the tooth fairy?”
“A trail of silver fairy dust encircled every bed containing a pillow and errant teeth.” I should know. I’m the one who vacuumed the sparkles up.
“You mean put them out,” she answers.
“Such cynicism in our youth today,” I say, attempting to change the subject.
I didn’t mention the long forgotten Candy Fairy who eats all the Halloween candy and is a distant cousin to the Tooth Fairy and a close friend of the Weight Watchers gremlin.
A few others that have left my lips are, “The television is broken,” “If you pee in the pool, it will make a green circle around you,” and my personal favorite, “Princess Belle at Disneyland collects pacifiers for all the babies in the castle.” They all worked like a charm, although I will never be able to verify that my girls did not pee in a pool.
So, yes, teenager daughter of infinite wisdom, we parents do lie at times. But, we do it with the best of intentions. We know that life is tough and we all need a little bit of magic and fun.
“One thing I never lie about is how much I love you,” I say, throwing my arms around her in a big hug. She relaxes for a moment before giving the teen squirm, signaling that it’s time to stop embarrassing her.
“Can you please go unload the dishwasher? If not, there will be no dishes for breakfast,” I tell her. “And that, my dear child, is not a lie.”
Christine Fugate is a filmmaker and writer. She hopes that Santa Claus will bring her a new cable service provider so she can stop calling Cox Cable every other day.