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I have a big mouth and sometimes I say things without even realising that I've said them.

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I don’t know if you can tell that from reading what I write here, can you? I suppose I just sometimes talk before I think. Also, I am not a natural liar. That is, I am a terrible liar but it goes further than that. Even the unsaid feels like a lie to me. If there is anything of weight (actually often things that are of no consequence at all) that remains unsaid I feel I can’t allow people to be mislead. It means I am painfully honest, which is not a bad thing. It makes for good open relation ships mostly, my husband and friends know that they can trust me, trust what I say, because even if I try to lie, it doesn’t really work.

Take for example my encounter yesterday with the former owners of our house.

Just as we had pulled out of our street I saw them drive past us and turn into our street. Thinking that they were perhaps trying to contact us we decided to turn around and drive home to check.

We met them on the road and both stopped our cars to have a chat. We talked about things that we had done to the house. They were full of questions and wanted to hear all about it. They seem to have a very strong emotional connection to the house and I think they are a bit sad that they no longer live here.

It is here that I must add that, the day we took ownership of the house, they came around to collect some final property and have a chat. The owner went on and on about how she loved the great big old hills hoist. She said she would take it with her if she could. I knew then that we had plans to remove it but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying that we didn’t like it*.

We had talked about contacting her to ask if she would like it when we got around to taking it out. We definitely intended to. We did. The thing is, when we  actually came to pulling it out we just kinda forgot. We had the scrap metal guy coming to collect things the next day and we wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be hanging around the yard for weeks at some point so we ripped it out a bit earlier than planned.

Fast forward to the car yesterday. There I am sitting in the car thinking “Don’t say anything about the clothesline, don’t say anything about the clothesline, don’t say anything about the clothesline, don’t say anything about the clothesline, don’t say anything about the clothesline”.

The conversation finished and I was so pleased. I managed not to say anything. I knew she would have been upset.

It wasn’t until a good five minutes later that I realised I had told her. I talked all about where we would put the “new clothesline”. She had looked upset, I just didn’t really follow what was happening because I am actually a social moron.

I was kicking myself. I felt so silly but then I thought, you know what? It’s MY house. Being worried about this is going to extremes in thinking about the feelings of others. It’s my clothesline.

Now I don’t feel guilty at all. Hardly. At. All.

But next time we see her – I’m hiding.

*Exception: I can omit things and bend the truth if it protects someone’s feelings and there is no need to be truthful that overrides this. Geez, I am not a total social moron.

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6 responses

  1. It is your house. Keep telling yourself that.

    And heaps better than the old owners of my house. We found their old drug stash the other day. Luckily empty, but still, finding syringes is never pleasant. (They’d hidden them under an old water tank and then put concrete inside the tank so it was hard to lift.)
    .-= Veronica´s last blog ..Can I just say… =-.

  2. Yep. It’s your house. And you can’t do everything.

    I have a big mouth too. I think I’m getting slightly better now I’m older and kinder, but I’m just waiting for that day when it comes back again, sometime in my 60s I predict. I think you reach a certain age and just go f**k it I’ll say whatever I like.
    .-= Stomper Girl´s last blog ..Hot and Cold =-.

  3. I would have done the same thing.

    And then beat myself up for it. For twenty years.

  4. “social moron”. That’s me. Exactly.

  5. We share this in common. I’m a talker. A big talker. And a bad liar. “Even the unsaid feels like a lie to me.” YES! And so I say it. And it usually gets me in trouble. Me and my mouth. Ugh.
    .-= Leslie´s last blog ..You’d Think I’d Be Peaches, But Actually, I’m Herb =-.

  6. I’m a HORRIBLE over-talker and too-much-truther!! For me, the unsaid is a HUGE LIE JUST WAITING TO BE DISCOVERED. I can’t lie well at all, either.

    That being said, it had been her house and she had the opportunity to take the hoist before she left and she didn’t. Now it’s your home and you are doing what is right for you and your family. No need for guilt one little bit.
    .-= Hyphen Mama´s last blog ..4 words that force you to change your life =-.

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