The theme of the day is guilt (relevant).
Long ago I lied to my parents to get them to take me to Chuck E. Cheese (an unparalleled kids' arcade palace complete with tubeslide and ballpit) and afterward, the guilt was too much. Here's what happened.
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I wasn't the traditional "problem child." I didn't get into fights or paint the neighbor's cats, but I did still somehow find a way to consistently get into trouble at school. I would talk too much and distract my classmates and when we got in line to go to the cafeteria, I would pick a random direction and begin cartographing the school like an ancient explorer. Curiosity was frowned upon in my elementary school.
My elementary school was also aggressively disciplinary, with almost every grade and class operating on some sort of demerit system. For instance, in first grade, we were given a flimsy cup into which 3 plastic bears were carefully doled out. If we were to misbehave, we would lose these bears and at the end of class, the number of bears that remained after the day's firing squad of misbehavior would be recorded on a giant board prominently displayed in the class. My bears were usually all KIA.
Once my parents caught wind of this system of evaluation, without fail the first question of the day as they picked me up from school would be, "so how many bears did you get today?" (Which is a bad way to ask the question. It should be, "how many bears didn't you lose today?") My response to this question was often zero with the occasional, glimmering "one!"
My parents, worried that their son's lack of bears was a lurking precursor to a life of underacheivement and petty crime (not even the cool crimes, just the three strikes and you're a felon kind). So, they cooked up a plan. On one fateful Friday after school, they challenged: "Patrick, if you can go a whole week without losing any bears, we'll take you to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate."
The gauntlet had been thrown.
I was determined to go to Chuck E. Cheese. I thought all weekend about how things were going to change and how I was going to be the picture of good behavior for the whole next week.
Monday morning I walked into class. I set my backpack down. I climbed into my chair and sat silent and upright, like a good boy should. The teacher said "alright, will everyone please get out the homework that you did over the weekend?"
Homework? What homework? She hadn't assigned any- oh no. I had been focusing so hard on how to be a respectable young man all weekend that I had totally forgotten about any homework that had been assigned. I looked around as all of my classmates pulled a completed worksheet out of their backpacks.
Then, out of nowhere, the teacher was behind me.
"Patrick, where's your homework?"
I looked up at her with a frown.
"Didn't you do your homework?"
I slowly shook my head a teary "no."
"Well, then. I guess I'll just have to take a bear." And she deftly swiped a bear from my cup and walked away.
It hadn't even been 4 minutes into the week and I had already failed the challenge for which I had spent all weekend preparing. I was very distraught.
When my parents came to pick me up after school, they didn't ask the question right away. They started with the "who did you eat lunch with, how was nap time, did you enjoy recess" array of inquiries that every parent asks but that no parent really, truly, cares to know. I grumbled responses.
Then they asked the question. "So did you lose any bears today?" I don't know what came over me, but the response that I formulated in my head is not what came out of my mouth.
"No." I said.
"You didn't?! That's great!" My excited parents chittered. "One day down, only four to go!"
Only four to go, I thought. Somehow I had turned this unequivocal disaster into a small triumph. I resolved to try hard to keep my bears the rest of the week, but if the worst happened, I could just tell them I didn't lose any.
I lost every single bear that week. I kept lying. My parents thought I was the paragon of obedience. I was going to Chuck E. Cheese.
We headed over to Chuck E. Cheese immediately after school on Friday after I revealed that I had, yet again, been perfectly behaved.
For the entire car ride over, the four or so hours we were there, and the car ride back I was completely untouched by the implications of my actions. It wasn't until we got home and as my mother was putting me to bed and said "I'm really proud of you, Patrick." that I started to process that I had actually done something dishonest.
"Goodnight, honey." My bedroom door closed behind my mom with an ominous click.
I suddenly found myself alone with my thoughts and the prizes I had bought with the tokens I won at Chuck E. Cheese.
I started to think to myself: "Did I do the right thing this week?"
Doubt began to fester in my mind. What if I was found out? How would my parents react if they discovered that I had not in fact earned my way into their reward but rather deceived them?
I started to sweat and worry. I spread out the toys that I had won in the bed in front of me. A small red plastic airplane, a plush dolphin, and a whoopee cushion stared back. My guilt began to manifest itself.
"Did I do the right thing?" I asked the toys.
"Noooooooooooooooooooo..."
Like the whistling of a breath through a broken harmonica came the response. I was quite surprised.
"W-who said that?"
"I did." The airplane whispered as it turned toward me. "You lied to your parents!"
"You should be ashamed!" added the dolphin.
I squeezed my eyes shut and clamped my hands hard against my ears. It did no good.
"You didn't earn us..." the dolphin continued.
"You're a terrible son..." the airplane accused.
"Stop!" I pleaded.
"How dare you lie to your parents. They love you..." growled the airplane.
"Your parents should send you to military school..." the dolphin suggested.
"No!" I exclaimed.
"PLBLBLBHBHHBLBBBLLBBHBBHHBHBHB!" The whoopee cushion made a loud fart sound.
"AHHH, FINE. I DON'T DESERVE YOU!" I grabbed up the toys in my arms and ran down to the kitchen table where my parents were talking to each other.
"I LIED TO YOU! I LOST ALL MY BEARS THIS WEEK AND I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU BUT I WANTED TO GO TO CHUCK E. CHEESE AND I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE ONLY WAY BUT NOW I WANT TO DIE!"
I collapsed in a heap of tears and toys on the floor.
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My parents still tell this story at dinner parties.
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