Liar, liar

I don’t know why I lie so much, but I guess that sometimes getting my way is so much shorter with a little lie. Today at Piscine Municipale someone had taken my swimming track, the one next to the middle cord separating the swimming section from water gymnastics. I just cannot get in the spirit of Michael Phelbs and dreaming of winning my 117th Olympic gold medal if I am not swimming on my usual track. So I asked the lady who had taken my track if she would mind changing the lanes as I feel more secure next to the cord being epileptic. She could perfectly understand my point and went off swimming elsewhere.

Once on a flight we were served coffee with very boring vacuum packed sand cake. It looked quite disgusting so I told the stewardess that I had diabetes, maybe she had something else for me. After two minutes she came back with a sandwich with smoked salmon. My husband tried in vain to convince the stewardess, half of the sand cake in his mouth, “I am diabetic, too!”.