When I told my big lie I was not exactly a child but a teenager. Several friends and I had traveled about 30 miles to a remote lake. We enjoyed waterskiing and fishing, and once in a while staying in a cabin nearby. On this particular outing, I developed an infection on my right forearm which resembled a large pimple. I took to messing with it – squeezing it and the like. Soon the infection got much worse and it became necessary for someone to take me back to town to see a doctor for diagnosis and antibiotics. The doctor looked at me sternly and asked “Have you been picking at this?” I shook my head and bleated an uncertain “No...” The doctor eyed me with disapproval clearly acknowledging that he detected a blatant lie. Now when I see a person too fragile to tell the truth, I remember this and feel sorry for them and their tortured self-concept.
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