As I’ve shared before, living in a small town comes with its own, sometimes strange, difficulties.
Say you’re doing some Christmas shopping. You decide on (what you hope is) the perfect gift for your in-laws. You have to go to a specific location to pick up this gift, a nice restaurant that they haven’t been to yet. While there, you run into an acquaintance. You stop and chat. He is a friend of Peter’s parents. Everything is fine.
“Say hello to your parents,” he tells Peter. We will, of course.
Then we get in the car and we realize, we can’t pass that hello along. Because, of course, if you do, Peter’s parents will ask where we saw this friend. And once we tell them, they’ll wonder why we were at a fancy restaurant in the middle of the day.
“Fine,” we decide, “We just won’t mention it.”
But wait. This friend and Peter’s parents will all be at the same Christmas party. Tonight. What if he mentions that he saw us?
(Kids, lying is wrong. But sometimes you have to lie to save Christmas.)