Liar, liar, pants on fire

Remind me not to answer the phone. I’d rather wait till they give up and then check callback to see who it was.

Oh, but I shouldn’t be so mean!

Yes I should.

Noooooo, he just called at the wrong time. He wasn’t to know I only watch one program a week.

No. Fair enough. But. Dear. God. He. Goes. Onnnnnnnn...

He called to ask if we knew anything about making free phone calls using broadband. I didn’t even shout for the BH, I knew he’d wince and shuffle out the room when I said who it was.

Please don’t think we don’t like him. We do. But not on the phone. Or in a supermarket. Or, really any occasion you have less than forty minutes to an hour.

I said the BH didn’t deal with that stuff at work (I dunno), and I’d never tried it (I haven't). I just wanted to end the conversation without being impolite.

He said surely I must have heard of it.

Yes. Of course I have. But I don’t have any useful information. Now please, please, go away!

But…what’s this?

An opportunity to educate Debi?

It seems we weren’t his first stop! Oh no-sireee, this man’s being out hunting and gathering information. And here he is, presented with a wench more ignorant than him! What’s a man supposed to do?

Why, teach her of course!

He launched into full, detailed, colourful, and very boringlengthy explanation.

I prayed for help. Why are the children always quiet when I need them? I mean for heavens sake, I’m on the phone, where’re the injuries, blood and arguments that normally occur? Oh yeah, three out of four are asleep.

But. He doesn’t know that. Just…just…wait for…aaaaaaaa…break.

Now!

Ooooooooo, let’s call it a fib.