At What Point Do The Lies Become Truths

Farmer H is a habitual liar. He thinks he can get away with it, even though I constantly prove he cannot. Doesn't stop him from trying. A while back I mentioned how Farmer H moved my washcloth from the towel rack where I had place it on my towel, to the side of the big triangle tub in the master bathroom where it just so happened he was going to have a soak. I didn't buy his excuse THEN. And I'm pretty suspicious of his most recent washcloth manipulation.

Farmer H has a tell. Rather than just answering a question directly, he will repeat the question while trying to buy time to fabricate an answer. Then he proposes alternate scenarios until flat-out caught in an untruth. He's less transparent than a toddler with crumbs on his face denying a forbidden dip into the cookie jar.

Saturday afternoon, I draped my used washcloth on the side of the big triangle tub in the master bathroom, on the area where there's a built-in plastic rod for such items. There are two. One near the corner by the toilet where the faucet handles are, and the other along that side of the tub towards the sink. Mine was on the sink end. That allows it to dry, and then I put it in with the dirty clothes to wait for washing.

Sunday afternoon, I went to move my dried washcloth, and saw that it was not in the same position as I had left it. I drape it a certain way, with the border oriented along the side so it's not in contact with the edge of the tub, since this part takes longer to dry. Now the border was hanging down against the inner tub side. Hmm. What a curious discovery. I know that washcloth didn't move itself. AND Farmer H had taken a soak in the tub Saturday night, forgoing the auction. Of course I had to open an interrogation.

"What happened to my washcloth?"

"Your washcloth? Nothing happened to it."

"The blue washcloth I had draped on the side of the tub."

"It's still there. Nothing happened to it."

"Funny how it's not hanging how I left it."

"Oh. I knocked it into the tub. But I wrung it out and put it back."

"Really... is that the truth, or is it a lie like your first two answers? How in the world did you knock it into the tub when it was hanging there on the rod?"

 

"Getting in. I knocked it into the water while I was getting in."

 

"I don't know how you did THAT. How do I know you didn't use it to wash with?"

 

"I didn't. I don't know why you're always accusing me!"

 

Oh, I don't know... could it be... perhaps... that you are always LYING about what happened?

 

Seriously. What if I had plans to re-use that washcloth for a second day? Do I want to use something that's been in Farmer H's buttwater soup, even if he DIDN'T use it to wash with? NO! I do not. Once it is contaminated by Farmer H's bathwater, it must be washed. Who knows what he REALLY did with it!

 

A sane person would have answered immediately, upon being asked what happened to my washcloth: "Oh, I knocked it into the bathwater as I was getting in the tub. I wrung it out and hung it back on the side." See how simple that is? But a liar has to stall for time, and only propose that story when he's been caught.