Lying Lips are an Abomination
With both hands on the steering wheel, I glanced at the wristwatch on my left hand and noticed it was almost six o'clock in the afternoon. I turned the car into the driveway of my home, turned off the engine, grabbed my backpack, and got out. My backpack was quite heavy now because in addition to papers from work there were also four Bibles inside.
My neighbor James watered the garden across the fence. The fence was only two feet tall, which was not enough for privacy.
With the hose still in his hand, my neighbor James approached me and grinned. He was an old man, maybe fifty. He had a beard and was mildly overweight.
"Back from work, eh, Keith?" James continued to water the plants near his fence. "I see you've got yourself a Lexus."
"I got it a long time ago."
"Maybe a fortnight ago."
I really didn't like James, so I quickly ran to my house and unlocked the front door.
Once inside the house, I looked at my wife Karen. She had lovely bottled blonde hair in curls. She was a somewhat slim and short girl compared to me. I married her not only because she was pretty but also because she always made me happy whenever I spoke to her.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and changed into a white Nike shirt and tracksuit pants. Just as I walked out from the bedroom I heard my wife shouting from downstairs.
Thinking that my wife wanted me to remind the kids about dinner, I walked into my son's room. Timothy was five years old. He was less than three feet tall and had black hair. He was in his room playing on the Playstation 3.
"Timmy, I think dinner's ready."
"Just a minute," he said, not even taking his eyes off the screen.
As I stood at the door of my son's bedroom, I felt hands grab my leg from behind. I turned around and saw my eleven-year-old daughter Jessica grabbing my leg. I picked the girl up and sat her on Timmy's bed.
"Dad, how many more days until Christmas?" asked Jessica.
I sat down and faced Jessica. Like Timmy, she too had dark brown, almost black hair. She was slightly taller than he was.
"Not long," I said.
"Mom says Santa Claus will give me a puppy for Christmas."
Jessica wasn't a small child anymore, so I wondered why she hadn't grown out of Santa yet. "Your mom hasn't told you the truth about Santa Claus?"
"What do you mean?"
I left the question unanswered, got off the bed, and walked out of the room, eager to get to the toilet. Jessica followed me. When I walked into the toilet I saw feces in the toilet water. The person who had previously used the toilet forgot to flush it.
"Jessica, did you forget to flush the toilet again?"
Jessica looked at me. "No! I didn't do it."
"Are you sure you're not lying to me?"
I sniffed the air. "Smells like whoever did this did it recently."
"Maybe it was Timmy," said Jessica.
"Jessica, you did this, didn't you?"
She looked like she was going to cry. "Yes, I did it. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I said. "Make sure you don't lie to me next time."