Honesty is the best policy.
Sometimes.
But more often than not, a well thought out variation of honesty is actually better.
For example, if your wife asks, "Does this make me look fat?", irregardless of what the honest answer might be, the best answer is, of course, a simple "No".
I have learned the hard way that truth, like everything else in life, is relative to one's perception. There have been moments when for lack of not thinking before speaking, I have let the real truth slip out.
Case and point. A year or so after My Wife and I were married, ages and ages ago, we were arguing about something, I don't remember what, but she said "What happened to you? When we were dating you used to always agree with me." And I made the huge mistake of accidentally speaking the 'honest' truth, "That's because I wanted you to like me!" I knew by the shocked look on her face as the words blurted out of my mouth that I had jokingly said the wrong thing. "What???"
That was a long time ago and I still hear about that one all the time. It is high up there on her list of "unbelievable" things I have said and done.
Another "incident" happened about a year ago. A series of events brought about my driving to the Medical Center, here in Houston, almost daily for about 3 weeks. First, I was visiting my niece who had been in a bad car accident and then my youngest son was hospitalized for a week with a low platelet disorder. Anyway, to make a long story longer, after my son came home, My Wife and I had to take him back every few days to have his platelets checked. While driving the usual route back to the hospital I pointed out which building my niece had been in and where I had parked and so, and My Wife asked, "What's up with that log cabin over there?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"The log cabin back there on the corner", she said.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said as I drove on.
"How could you not notice a log cabin surrounded by high-rise buildings?" she asked incredulously.
And then I revealed the honest truth, "If its not about me, I don't notice it."
"What???"
"It's a guy thing," I feebly tried to explain. "Men just don't notice things."
"So, what you are saying is, ALL men are blind morons?" she pressed further.
"Yes. No. Maybe," I stammered crumbling under cross examination, "I'm confused."
And, of course, my older son was in the backseat laughing his ass off, pointing his finger at me and hollering "Ha Ha" like the Nelson character on
The Simpsons.
If only I had remembered my usual reply of, "Hmmmm, I don't know," I would have been safe.