This week Mama Kat asks “What things do lie about on a regular basis“?
I think it’s obvious for most women. Height and weight. Meg regularly quotes her weight, it’s probably not her real weight, but more like the weight she wants to be. She sees nothing wrong with that, it’s not harming anyone, right? 10 pounds, schmnend pounds.
Also, she may not be truthful about the height listed on her driver’s license. For years she was 5’8, and she’s pretty sure age and gravity have shrunk her down to 5’7. The height/weight proportion she has in her head is ingrained, imprinted, and consistently used whenever the need arises. The thing is, she always tells her real age, which is currently 53. Meg determined last week when a young lady asked her for a feminine hygiene product in a ladies room, that she at LEAST looked like she hadn’t reached menopause.
Meg remembers this particularly fun co-worker named Mike, and he used to ride a motorcycle to work. Meg declined the Easy Rider experience on the back, but their evil boss insisted on going for a spin. All 300 pounds of her. She often quoted her weight as 200, which possibly could have been 200 stone as used in the English metric system.
Mike came back from the lunchtime ride kind of pale and sweaty, saying he almost dumped the evil one in the parking lot. He mentioned it took all of his brute strength to keep his bike steady. Meg was rather wistful about him not dumping the boss. This leads Meg to mostly thinks her lie are not of the 100 pound variety, which truly is a BIG A** LIE.
Therefore, I theorize this math problem will work for any woman out there:
There you have it, ladies. The little white lie all neatly wrapped up into a nice equation.