Cooking for the Iron Lady

Like a jilted lover, my Iron Lady rang me 32 times during the second day of the new year. I was quite sick with the then unnamed bug. She must have dialed continuously - how else could I have registered 32 missed call in one hour?

Just imagine my shock when I found out I had 32 missed calls! And honestly, when I found out it all came from the same person, from my dear Iron Lady, I did get angry.

Finally.

But before I could contemplate my response, the phone rang again. I took a deep breath and hit the green button. "Karriii! Karrri! I'm (name)! I come later to iron......" The big roar in my very then sore throat came out in a sad whisper, "No. No need ironing......" and before I could finish, she said,"NO? NO NEED TODAY? OK!" and ... the phone went dead.

I was defeated.

And so, about 5 days ago, when she rang again and before she could hang up on me, I cooked her... "(name)! Sorry, my auntie is staying with us now. She is helping me! No need ironing anymore! Sorry."... my story.

How many of such stories do you cook up each day? Even if it's for the benefit of protecting someone else's ego, does it really do anyone any real good? Is it all imagined? Is truth that difficult? My stories, I discover, is my avenue of taking the easy way out, for me, the real coward.