...I cannot tell a lie. So in the Rook game tonight when Grandpa miscounted the score in Grandma's and my favor, I spoke up.
"Er, uh, we didn't make seventy [the minimum we needed], we made sixty."
Sixty means we didn't make our bid. Sixty means we're actually seventy in the hole. Sixty means we're still losing this bloody game.
"Andi! Why do you have to be so blamed honest?!" yelled Grandma.
"Sorry," I said, "but that would have weighed too heavily on my conscience."
Of course I may be honest, but that doesn't mean I don't give the evil eye and punch Ryan for being on the winning team. I can't be entirely good.
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