Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Me: There was a hand. It came up- from between the seat and the back of it. It was a man's hand. The man was in the trunk. I had my parent's pull over because of the hand that came up that was attached to the man in the trunk. But when my Dad looked he could't find anyone. It was a ghost or something.

( I was in second grade and I was sitting in the tires at the playground. Convincing all of my friends about my vast experience with ghosts. )

Me: So, yeah. We are going polar bear hunting in Alaska. The whole family. We didn't want my baby brother to come but we brought him anyway. We are going for the weekend.

Me ( Monday morning) : Yeah- we almost caught one but it got away.

( I was in Kindergarten, talking to Mrs. Lynne about our weekend. )

Me: Yeah- I fainted in the bathtub and almost died! I woke up sputtering water and my Mom came in and asked me if I was okay, but I was fine.

( I was at a slumber party in junior high, again, expounding on my vast life experience. )

LIES. ALL LIES. Why? I don't know. Bored? Creative? Just wanting to impress? I remember these lies vividly. Perhaps because of the slight discomfort I felt afterwards. Perhaps because in each of these moments I recall the listener doubting me.

So why does it bother me so much when one of my students... EVERY time I mention a movie tell me that he "saw that one yesterday on TV". EVERY TIME.

Breakfast Club? Saw it. Yesterday. Johnny Cash documentary? Saw that one too... yesterday, surprisingly. How about Groundhog Day? Wouldn't you know... saw that one, TOO! And only just... YESTERDAY!! Wow- life is just full of coincidence.

And each and every time I try, as horrible as it may sound, to solicit a tidbit of detail, like a station, or a time slot, so I may research the assertion and prove it wrong. And then, e-mail the evidence to my teaching assistant, who sits approximately fifteen feet away from me. And watch her smile broaden as she reads it. It brings me great joy.
And I confront this student each and every time. And I don't understand why he keeps doing it, and not learning that I will call him out. Because his response is not to defend himself... "Oh must have been a different station"... or "must have been last week... " He just giggles stupidly at me. He's SEVENTEEN.
And my excuse is that I was trying to inject excitement into my life, and in addition I was only 12. And I still remember the discomfort enough from those situations that I would never surmise to do so again.
And so, on Monday, I will prepare myself by searching for the most obscure movie known to man and find a way to insert it into class, just so I can watch it all play out again.
Sometimes I wonder if I am the weird one.