It may be a simple operation to you, doc…
It was only a simple operation. But why is it that I struggle to lie to people?
I guess it’s my upbringing. Being the only child in a single-parent family, I’m very close to my mum – For 21 years she was the only family I had until Mel came along. I can’t lie to my mum at all. Not because she could tell that I was lying, just that I’d be upset if she did it to me, and it’s a mutual respect.
The next story contains references to my penis. You have been warned.
The whole “not lying” thing came up again today. My middle daughter, A, turns 4 on Saturday, and my mum had asked Mel to buy a “4th birthday” badge on her behalf as she’d been unable to find one in town. Mel asked me to drop it round to mums on the way to a doctor’s appointment.
I knocked on the door, and as the doctor’s appointment was of a personal nature, I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone barring Mel.
So there I am, at mums door, car keys in hand as she opens the door. “Hi mum, Mel asked me to drop this round” I said, passing over the badge.
“Thanks, son,” she replied, looking at my keys, “you didn’t drive round, did you?”
This question was rhetorical. She could see the car parked on the road, but still felt the need to ask me. It was also said slightly mockingly, as I live a 2-minute walk away from her.
“Yeah, I’m going down to the Lodge.” The Lodge is the local parade of shops with a doctor’s surgery on the end.
“Ooooh, where are you going, anywhere nice?” Now, if you know the Lodge, none of it is nice. There’s a Co-op, a betting shop, a couple of takeaways and a few other odds and sods shops. Nothing nice.
“No mum, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment I’m going to.” This was said as I started backing away from the door. Her eyes lit up in horror.
“What for?” came the worried reply.
“Nothing major, just a check-up.” (still backing away at this point)
“Well, what for?” Mum’s not daft – she knew I went for a general health check just 3 months ago after 3 years of nagging. To go for another meant there was something wrong. And it hung in the air like the smell of a rotting corpse – Her worried, wondering what the Hell I was dying of, Me – Wondering how the Hell to get out of this without lying to her and embarrassing myself.
Years of experience have taught me that I won’t lie, and the embarrassing stuff can be funny anyway, so I bit my tongue (figuratively, otherwise it would have sounded all weird when I spoke) and told her:
“I’m going to see the doctor because my foreskin’s getting tight.”
Immediately, the worrying response came back: “Do you want me to come with you?”
“What the fuck for mum, seriously? To hold the bloody thing? Naah, I’ll be fine, but cheers all the same!”
“No!” she said, part horrified, part finding it hilariously funny, “I want to get a kebab.”
Parent’s thought processes are scary.
I can’t believe you were warned that I was talking about my dick and you still read the story. Pervert.
The appointment went fine. Doc didn’t even want a look at Little Dan, even though I cleaned him especially, and seemed more embarrassed by the whole thing than I felt.
Apparently I should now be getting an appointment letter through the post for a urology (sic?) outpatients appointment, and then the probability of having a piece of penis snipped off in the New Year. Happy fucking 2007 to me.