This is not a post and the cake is a lie

Lies my parents told me when I was younger:
“Look pumpkin, its meat with none of the grissel, fat and bone.”
(Thanks to that though, liver and onions is still my favourite.)

“What is this?”
“It’s stew.”
(I was told rabbit halfway through, and they wonder why I spat out my food on the table in reaction.) I learned to love it after my daddy taught me how to skin them and get rid of the poop rope and stuff. (For those of you that do not know: poop rope=intestines, saying it in french doesn’t make it any less gross people.)

“You can be anything.”
If that was true I would be a flying unicorn that doesn’t live on this planet and poops out little galaxies.

“We’re going to aunties house today.
Of course it’s spelled h-o-s-p-i-t-a-l.”

“If You keep making that face, it will stay that way.”
…many, many funny faces later and it’s fine.

“The dog is with god now.”
We took him to the vet and gassed him like an axe murderer.

Other things my parents were wrong about: Putting butter on 3rd degree burns, teaching your daughter how to hot wire cars before she learns how to drive, the wisdom of leaving a 6 year old to hunt with her father.

 

Toreishi Noblesse

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