What?? It's True!!

The following is a fable, but it's true--as all fables should be.

Once upon a time, there was a child who watched far, far too many courtroom dramas. Over and over, every day (sometimes 12 times a day if TNT was running a marathon), she would see someone put their hand on a Bible and swear to tell "The Truth, The Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth."

This was a fascinating concept. What did it mean? How did it work? Nothing But The Truth was easy--it just meant don't lie. But what was the difference between The Truth and The Whole Truth? And how was The Whole Truth related to, say, "facts," which seemed to be what the judge, jury, and various prosecuting and defending attorneys wanted either revealed or concealed?

And...seriously...would the world be a better place if only everyone Told The Truth all the time?

One day, as she was walking home from school, she decided that she would begin a campaign to improve the world by telling The Whole Truth. She began this campaign as soon as her mother asked her, "What did you do in school today, sweetie?"

Now, usually, she would say something like, "Nothing much," or, "Oh, you know, the usual," or, "My teacher is so unfair!! Do you know what she made us do?" But this time, she knew she had to Tell The Truth, so she thought very hard and then began, "Well, first I took off my coat. No, wait. First I walked in the front door. That's right. I walked in the front door, and then I walked to the classroom, but before I got there Eric Iverson stuck his tongue out at me, and he's gross, so I ignored him, but then he followed me down the hall to the classroom, and when we got there I...no, wait. I think that before Eric I said hi to Ariel. Yeah, Ariel was first, and then...."

She went on like this for a few minutes before her mother figured out that it wasn't either going to get more interesting or less detailed. At that point, her poor mother wasn't sure how to stop the flow of information. She didn't want to say, "That's nice dear, but it's really not very interesting and I actually didn't want to know that much," because that wouldn't be supportive of the poor dear. She also didn't want to ask if anything important had happened, because it's very rare that anything happens in the life of a fifth-grader that is important on a large scale, but for some reason almost everything is important on a small scale, and one doesn't wish to negate that 11-year-old sense of wonder, does one?

In the end, the poor mother settled for interrupting with, "All this talking has to be making you thirsty. Would you like a snack?"

At this, the girl admitted that, in fact, she wasn't thirsty, but she was tired of talking (which was the truth), and she would really like a cookie (which she thought was the truth). Besides, even though a lot of things happened, when you started talking about them they all sounded pretty boring (an ultimate truth).

After she was done with the cookie (cookies--she had three, so she admitted that saying she would like "a cookie" hadn't been true because she would actually like several more cookies, and if her mother weren't watching she probably would have eaten three more) she gave the matter a little more thought. All night she was very quiet, and when she watched her courtroom dramas, she paid very close attention to everything that was said and done in the pursuit of The Truth.

The next day, when she came home from school and her mother asked her, "What did you do in school today, sweetie?" the girl believed she had the correct answer. She wouldn't tell The Whole Truth, she'd just summarize and tell the interesting parts.

She said: "Well, I went to class, and talked to my friends, and did work and stuff. And at recess Eric pulled my hair."

At which point her mother interrupted and said, "Yes, sweetie. Eric's mother called me as soon as he got home. She told me that you'd kicked him and punched him in the ear."

"Yes, I did," she said, trying her best to be truthful without going overboard. "I'm glad I didn't punch him in the nose, because if he'd started bleeding he would have had to go to the school nurse, and then we would have gotten sent to the principal's office for fighting."

"But honey, why did you punch Eric in the ear?"

Now the little girl knew that telling the truth was going to be a difficult thing to do. This was where the people in the courtroom dramas always had a tough time. And besides, she knew her mother wasn't going to like the answer.

"It was an accident, but he doesn't know that," she finally said--which was True.

"But why did it happen?"

"Because I..." she wanted to say because I hate him, but that wasn't exactly true. There were a lot of people she really didn't like, but she'd only punched Eric. She also could have said, because he deserved it, but that was just her opinion. The facts were that she had punched him because he'd sneaked up behind her and stuck his hand down the back of her panties, and when she spun around, she just happened to hit the side of his head hard enough to hurt him. Then he'd pulled her hair and said that if she told anybody what he'd done, he'd make sure they knew she hit him, and then she'd be in trouble, too. That was when she'd kicked him in the shin. She knew that was just stupid, but if she went to the teacher, Eric would probably just deny everything, and besides, they'd all have to go to the principal's office, and the whole thing would upset her parents. And that was when she figured out how to answer the question.

"Because he did something I didn't like, and so I hit him, and kicked him, and that made him stop without getting everybody upset and causing a lot of trouble." Which was all true, except that she didn't repeat the part where it had been an accident. She hoped that her mom would forget about that part, because if Eric found out it was an accident, he might not be afraid of her, and he'd probably do it again. Because he was that sort of boy.

"You don't think hitting him caused trouble?" Her mom looked very worried.

"I think hitting him caused trouble, and I'm really sorry his mom called you," this was True, but not The Whole Truth, since she didn't add that she wasn't sorry that she'd hit him in the first place. "But I also think he won't do it again because now he's scared of me."

"You're going to have to tell me what he did, sweetheart."

That was when The Whole Truth got really annoying.

Because she was basically a good little girl, she broke down and told her mother everything. And, as she suspected, this caused a great deal of trouble all around. For about a week everyone yelled at everyone else, and in the end nothing was solved except that Eric had to promise her that he would never do anything like that again, and she had to promise that she wouldn't hit him again unless he deserved it. Both sets of parents were angry and upset with each other, and although the problem was "solved," nobody felt very good about it.

Besides, not everybody learned their lesson. Oh, Eric pretty much left her alone after that, but some people just aren't that smart.

A few days later, when she came home from school, her mother asked, "So, sweetie, what did you do in school today?"

Her daughter, shocked by this turn of events, couldn't answer for a minute. Seriously--why was her mom torturing her this way? Particularly since she was still trying to Tell The Truth, and at this point she couldn't help but believe that her mom couldn't handle The Truth.

So she said: "Mom, a lot of things happened. Some of them I don't want you to know about, because I don't want you to know about the rules I break. Some of them you don't want to know about because you don't want to know how stupid I can sometimes be. But when it comes right down to it, The Truth is that you don't really want to know what I did in school today because it's either pretty boring or really annoying. And honestly, Mom, you only ask because you think if you don't ask, you'll be a bad mother or something. Trust me, Mom, that's just crazy.

"So let's make a deal. I'll tell you what I think you should know, and if I say I don't want to talk about it, let's just not talk about it. Okay?"

Which, of course, didn't work at all. Her mom still asks her "What did you do today," and she still finds most of the results really boring--and often she's not really listening anyway. Sometimes, though, she even presses for details she really would rather not know about. All in all, it's enough to make a Teller of The Truth wish should could just make up a good story every now and then.

And the moral of the story is: You can tell the truth. You can tell the whole truth. You can tell nothing but the truth. But never, ever, tell a relative truth.