True Love

Two things happen whenever I attempt to tell porkies to my better half, The first is I develop a slight ssstammer which of course underlines an anxiety caused by the certain knowledge that I will  inevitably be rumbled and the second is my good lady adopts a condescending 'don't lie to me' tone of voice similar to that of a primary school teacher who has recently won the smug teacher of the year award from the University of Smug, which confirms that I have indeed been found out.

 Bearing this in mind it is all the more incredible that I try it on in the first place as any attempted deceit is almost certainly doomed to failure and I must suffer the excruciating embarrassment of having my story picked apart and exposed for the flimsy fabrication that an eight year old would find wholly unsuitable as excuse fodder to run past their mother.

"Why do you lie?" the smug primary teacher asks;
"BBBBecause I'm good at it" I lie,
"Why are you stammering?"
"BBecause I'm stressed, anyway you shouldn't mock the affected!"
"It's afflicted"
"What?"
"Afflicted, The phrase is you shouldn't mock the afflicted"
"Since when have you become a primary school teacher?, that's your sister"
"It's in the genes"
"Oh really"
"No I'm lying"
"You're not stammering"
"No, I'm not stressed"
"You're smug though"
"No I'm not"
"You are!, You're like a squirrel who's just received the nut collector of the year award from 'Bushy tail magazine'"
She laughs in the old infectious way that attracted me in the first place.
"Give me a hug you silly old fool"
"Loves you" I say, without a hint of a stammer.