YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
I totally believe in values and stuff, so I tell lots of true-ish stories to our children to instill those values deep, so they will turn out perfectly roasted and delicious when they are adults, like a good casserole, which coincidentally I'm just realising is relevant to the short story I'm about to share. This is my morality tale for today, and looking into the far future, I think it's going to have an appreciable effect on our children's moral center. Here it is, in case you forgot to read any ValueTales books today. It's about honesty.
HARRIET.
When I was a kid, we would go to church, and after church, there would sometimes be a potluck*; which is yet another thing stolen from Native Americans, and a bunch of people would bring a bunch of different food, and some it would be very good.
There was a little old lady named Harriet**, and she would stand behind her pots of soup and casseroles, double-dipping a massive serving spoon in and out as she taste-tested dishes to ensure their quality, cheerfully, surreptitiously flattening health code guidelines like traffic cones beneath a steamroller.
Also, the potlucks were vegetarian, which is beside the point, as is the fact that I am still vegetarian, except for the fact that people expected and assumed everything to be vegetarian.
There was the day we discovered that Harriet made it a practice to spice up her dishes in un-vegetarian like ways with not-quite vegan additives like beef; a small point she brushed aside with a smile, spoon lick, wink, and "...nobody can really tell now, can they?"
So, she was not being very honest about things.
And she eventually died.
It's important to be honest.
The end.
Go live your life with honesty today. I'm certainly going to try to, I think.
____
*potlatch
**not her real name
HARRIET.
When I was a kid, we would go to church, and after church, there would sometimes be a potluck*; which is yet another thing stolen from Native Americans, and a bunch of people would bring a bunch of different food, and some it would be very good.
There was a little old lady named Harriet**, and she would stand behind her pots of soup and casseroles, double-dipping a massive serving spoon in and out as she taste-tested dishes to ensure their quality, cheerfully, surreptitiously flattening health code guidelines like traffic cones beneath a steamroller.
Also, the potlucks were vegetarian, which is beside the point, as is the fact that I am still vegetarian, except for the fact that people expected and assumed everything to be vegetarian.
There was the day we discovered that Harriet made it a practice to spice up her dishes in un-vegetarian like ways with not-quite vegan additives like beef; a small point she brushed aside with a smile, spoon lick, wink, and "...nobody can really tell now, can they?"
So, she was not being very honest about things.
And she eventually died.
It's important to be honest.
The end.
Go live your life with honesty today. I'm certainly going to try to, I think.
____
*potlatch
**not her real name