I’m a really, really good liar. Seriously, I am. When I was growing up, I learned at home how to do it right, even though the same person who taught me how to do it so well would punish me for lying to him.
From a very early age, I learned to answer the phone when my father was dodging certain phone calls. I was coached in exactly what to say to which people, completely without regard to the truth, of course. I was frequently casually informed of lies so I could be sure to back up one of my father’s lies if it came up in conversation.
For instance, we were one time on the way to visit my father’s boss when he told me to say that my foot was fine if I was asked about it. He had needed an excuse to leave work one day, so he claimed that I had been injured by having a lawnmower blade hit my foot. (He had read a tiny news item about it happening to another boy, so he just transferred the story to me when it was convenient.) Things such as this were common for me.
As I said, though, lying to him was strictly forbidden. If I was caught doing it — and I was, from time to time — I was severely punished.

Homeless man on a cold night leaves me with hard questions
Sabans remind me that choice of partner can be a key to success
The more I see of death, the more determined I am to live life fully
My fears are less about death than about my own ‘unlived’ life
People with healthy self-esteem don’t fear what others might see
How can I make sense of a world that’s fundamentally nonsensical?
Emptiness can bring panic that feels like being stalked by fear
Just a performance: actors and politicians have a lot in common