Confession Tuesday - The Liar's Edition

I confess I enjoyed writing the post where I got to make up lies for you to guess.  Though I confess, I think it would have been easier to tell 4 truths and a lie.

I am not a very good liar.  Actually, I am the worst liar.  I think because it makes my stomach tighten and I think the truth is usually better.

But after saying that I am a bad liar, no one guessed my lie, so I must be pretty good. (Oh, what a skill to have-- I promise you, this is not a skill I will continue to try to improve on.)

So for the details on my lies (most which came from the truth) here are the details.

1. I was almost trampled by a herd of sheep at a rodeo when I was 3.

Lie.  The truth?  I confess I was almost trampled by a herd of bulls at age 4 at a rodeo.  I was supposed to be sitting on the fence, but I climbed down and stood directly in the path where they were going to open the gate.  I still can see the moment in my mind.  

When my parents realized where I was, my mum froze and my dad jumped down called for me, and as I ran over, scooped me up as the gate was opened.  

2.  I *love* cheesecake, bread pudding and/or a big bag of potato chips.

Lie.  If you're my friend on Facebook, you know this is a lie as I have the cheesecake part in the "About Me" section. I despise cheesecake.   And am not a fan of bread pudding, potato chips, or french fries either.

3. I had a dachshund that refused to let me take it for walks.

Truth!  I had a dachshund when I was a child that did not like me.  Looking back now, I think "What dog doesn't want to go for a walk?!"  But this dog didn't.  At least, with me.  I remember my dad saying as he saw me on the street with my dachshund on a leash, its front feet pressed forward so it didn't have to go, its head down-- "Oh look, Kelli is taking the dog for a drag."   

And yes, that's exactly what our walks were like.

4. I was born to hippie parents in 1969 and my mother tried to talk my dad into letting my middle name me Moonbaby.

Lie.  In a million years, my father would have never named me Moonbaby.  I confess I was born in 1969, but to a Republican business man father and a creative mother.   My father actually chose the name "Kelly," but my mum wanting some say in the matter said "It needs to be Kelli with an i because it's more feminine..." 

Thus causing me a life of incorrect spellings and never being able to find my name on one of those cool personalized license plates for your bikes at Disneyland.  

5. My first car was a Gremlin.

Lie.  I can thankfully say that my first car was a 1967 Ford Mustang.  And I still get nostalgic when I see them.




  1. Ah, the '67 Mustang! One of my friends in college had a '67 convertible, and one year, we drove it around town with the top down and our hair blowing in the wind. It was a perfect afternoon.

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  3. I was almost named "Earthwoman" (truth!)

    Random Question--
    I was wondering if you would have any books of poetry or essays you would recommend for a poet/mom-to-be? I'm expecting my first baby in Sept., and I've been hunting for some good poetry or books by poets to read (so far the best I've read has been "The Blue Jay's Dance" by Louise Edrich)

  4. From one Kelley to another Kelli: I'm right there with you on the Disneyland personalized plates!

  5. This gave me a chuckle this morning, and I also hate cheesecake.


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