With a lie
Not a large whopping lie
But a small one, or so I thought
Not that the size of lies matters now,
But things are always easier
I called all my friends
From around the neighborhood
Begging them to come quickly
I told them Mother had said
We could watch TV
Make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
And sit on her white couch.
Truth be told,
We had a fabulous time –
We enjoyed watching cartoons
While mother was at a neighbors, unaware.
She wore shock on her face
When she returned
All the color had drained
As she surveyed the mess of children,
Some stretched out in front of the TV
Other leaving fingerprints on her white couch
And still others,
Perched on her kitchen counter-top
Making more sandwiches.
The jelly jar was empty
And we sat and stared
With peanut butter mouths full,
Unable to speak.
My mother had that look, you see
The kind of look that quieted a room of children
We all knew that danger lurked not far.
I’ll never know what compelled me
To send invitations to a party
When no one knew the truth but me
But if I could whisper you a secret
I can promise I’ve never thought to do it again.
(c) Sumyanna 2017
Written for the prompt “tell about a lie you told”
Wonderful photo courtesy of Pixabay.com