The lies our parents tell us

A lot of people have told me I'm gullible and, to be fair, they're not entirely wrong, but I prefer to use the term, "trusting".

The other night I was treating myself to an artichoke for dinner.  They have been a special treat in my family that we had on special occasions when they were on sale, or when the boys were off camping.  This particular vegetable, though a favorite of mine, has always had a certain feel of risk for me.

Firstly, for those of you who aren't familiar with the delights of artichokes, I'll give you the run down.  They are delicious, they bring joy and look like this:

You cook them, either boiled or steamed, and once fully cooked, you peel off a petal and scrape the meat off from the inside of the petal.  The absolute best part is the heart. To get to the heart, eat all the leaves until you're left with the choke nestled in the center of the heart.  The choke is completely inedible and needs to be scraped out before you can eat the heart. 

Sounds weird, I know, but it's fantastic.

The importance of getting all the choke out of the heart before consumption was stressed to me by my parents.  So much so, that my mom told me it is poisonous.  I made sure to get every whit of choke out, to where it's essence wasn't even left behind because I knew, on pane of death, there could be no mistakes.

This I believed for a long time and it settled into my subconscious until a couple days ago.  I was scraping out the choke, making sure to get every bit out.  I stopped suddenly, and had a "wait a minute" moment.  The choke is not poisonous.

I immediately called my mom to confront her on her lies.  I relayed what she had taught me to which she laughed, hard. "I wouldn't lie to you like that." She proclaimed.  Luckily, I called prepared with a backup memory to prove she was wrong, she would lie to me like that.

When I was young, perhaps 5 or 6, she was driving me up to Salt Lake to visit my grandma.  As we drove north on I-15 there is a billboard to the right that has a boat straight through the center of it.  If you live in Utah, I'm sure you know the one I'm referring to.

I was staring out the window, lost in my own little world when she captured my attention, "Look, Bre.  See that boat up there?"  Peering up I saw a boat stuck in the billboard, naturally I was amazed as it's not an everyday sight.

"How'd it get there?" I asked.

"I'll tell you."  She replied.  And she did.

My mother spoke at length of a flood that had filled the valley.  She painted a picture of a devastating flood that suddenly swept in, causing a lot of damage and covering everything.  The water was high, she told me, so high that it reached all the way up to the billboards.  Then, a boat came floating along and crashed right into the center of billboard, getting stuck there.  I asked why it was still up there, and she told me that when the water level went back down it was so difficult to remove it, that they just left it there.  Seemed legit.

From then on out every time I passed that billboard I would look around and picture enrything around me underwater.  Debris floating, survivors clinging to flotsam for dear life.  I commiserated on what a tragedy it was, and rejoiced in the fortitude of Utahans to rebuild the community to what is was around me.

As I got older and learned to read, I discovered that the billboard happened to be for a boat dealership.  I laughed at how coincidental it was that of all the billboards this boat should get stuck in, that is should be for a billboard selling boats.  At least this disaster worked for the billboard; it was the perfect advertisement.  Later on I wondered if this was really why the boat was left in.

Getting older I would tell friends all about the horrific flood in Utah, showing them how high the water was based off the height of that boat.  Ya know, to keep the memory alive.  Most people didn't talk about the flood, but I did.

Later on I began to take note of where the boat actually punctured the billboard; it was blasted outwards on both sides.  That seemed fishy to me, shouldn't one side be pushed in, and the other side bend out?  Please note that, while I don't know exactly how old I was, it was old enough to logistically put together the effect a boat might have on a billboard.  Basically, I'm saying that when I figured this out, I was old enough to know better.

I told this to my mom and it just made her laugh harder.  She had no memory of her deceit, and pronounced that she would never lie to her child like that.

But I know better.  I.  Know. 

Were any of you fed creative, ahem, stories by your parents, only to realize later that they were just exploiting your childlike innocence for fun?

If you're so inclined, here are some additional stories on how awesome my mom is.