I Found These Are the White Lies Men Think You’ll Never Catch

Our dishwasher quit on a Tuesday in October. Tom looked at it, pushed the buttons a few times, and told me he would call the repair shop in the morning. On Wednesday I asked if he had called. He said yes. On Thursday I called the shop myself to ask about a time. They had no record of us.

I was not angry. I was mostly amused. After more than thirty years with this man, I know the difference between a lie that hurts and a lie that is just a man buying himself a little time. So while I washed dishes by hand that week, I started a list on the grocery pad on the fridge. Every small untruth I had caught over the years went on it. By Sunday, when the kids and grandkids came for dinner, the list ran down the whole page.

I also asked readers of this blog to send me the ones their husbands and boyfriends tell. The replies sounded a lot like my own kitchen. So here is what I wrote down, one scene at a time.

Already handled usually means he plans to handle it later

The dishwasher was the first entry. I stood at the sink with my hands in the water and asked Tom why he told me he had called when he had not. He said he meant to call. He said he had the number pulled up on his phone. He said that in his mind it was as good as done.

I have heard this one about the gutters, the car registration, the thank you note to his aunt, and the dentist. He does not think of it as lying. He thinks of it as reporting his intentions. The trouble is that I plan my week around what he says is finished.

I told him I would rather hear “not yet” than a yes that is not true. He agreed. Then he called the shop while I watched.

When a man says it is handled, ask him when. The answer will tell you if it is true.

He is fine right up until he is not

On Thursday night Tom was quiet at supper. I asked if something was wrong. He said he was fine. I asked again while we cleared the table. He said he was fine. I let it go. At ten that night he came into the bedroom and told me his brother had called with some hard news about his health.

He was not fine. He was never fine. He just did not have the words lined up yet, and he did not want to start crying over meatloaf.

I used to take this one personally. I thought he was shutting me out. Now I know that “fine” is his way of asking for a few hours. If I push, he closes up. If I wait, he comes to me.

Reader Janet R., 61, of Tulsa, Oklahoma, wrote that her husband has said “fine” through a job loss and a cancer scare. She said she has learned to say, “Okay, tell me when you are not.” She says it works better than asking twice.

He is not fine. He just needs time before he can say so.

He saw your message and did not want to answer right then

On Friday I texted Tom from the grocery store to ask if we needed coffee filters. No answer. I texted again from the parking lot. Nothing. When I got home he was in the recliner with his phone on his chest. He said he never saw it.

I picked up the phone. The message was marked as read.

He laughed, because he knew he was caught. He said he saw it, did not know the answer, and figured he would check the cupboard later. Then he forgot.

Readers sent me this one more than any other. Men do not lose their phones. They do not miss texts. They see the message, decide it can wait, and then tell you they never saw it because that sounds nicer than “I did not feel like answering.”

I told Tom that “I do not know, let me check” is a fine text to send. He said he would try. We will see.

If his phone was in his hand, he saw it.

Almost there starts the minute he gets in the car

Saturday morning Tom went to the hardware store for a part the repair man said we needed. I asked him to be home by noon because our middle one was stopping by early. At a quarter past, I called. He said he was almost home. I could hear the store music behind him.

He walked in forty minutes later with the part and a bag of birdseed we did not need.

In his mind, “almost there” means he has stopped browsing and has started thinking about leaving. It does not mean he is in the car. It certainly does not mean he is on our street.

I have stopped planning around his time estimates. I plan around when I actually see the truck turn in.

Reader Denise W., 54, of Erie, Pennsylvania, told me her husband says “pulling in now” while he is still at the gas station. She said she just sets the oven for later and does not fight about it anymore.

Add half an hour to whatever he says and you will not be disappointed.

The price goes down every time he tells the story

The birdseed got me thinking about another one. A few years back Tom came home with a new drill. I asked what it cost. He said it was on sale, maybe sixty dollars. The receipt in the bag said otherwise. It was quite a bit more.

He did not steal the money. It was our money and he was allowed to buy a drill. But he knew I would raise an eyebrow, so he shaved the number before he said it out loud.

I do it too, with shoes. I am not pretending I am above this one.

What I told him that night is that I would rather know the real cost and be a little annoyed than find out later and feel tricked. He said that was fair. Now when he buys a tool he hands me the receipt first and lets me react.

If he tells you the price before you ask, it was probably higher.

He tells the doctor the same stories he tells you

On Saturday afternoon Tom mentioned his checkup had gone fine. I asked what the doctor said about his blood pressure. He said the doctor was happy with it. I happened to know this was not true, because the pharmacy had called about a new prescription.

I asked him about the pills. He said he was going to tell me. He said he did not want me to worry.

Men also lie about what they eat for lunch. Tom tells me he had a sandwich. He had a sandwich and a bag of chips and whatever was in the break room. I know this because I have seen the crumbs on his shirt.

I do not nag about his health. I have learned that does not help. But I do go to the big appointments with him now, and I sit in the room. He does not love it. He does not argue either.

If he says the doctor had nothing to say, call the pharmacy.

You pick means he already picked and will not say so

Saturday night I asked Tom what he wanted me to make for Sunday dinner. He said whatever I wanted. I said chicken. He made a face. I said pork chops. He said sure, in a flat voice. I said pot roast. He said that sounded good.

He wanted pot roast from the start. He just did not want to be the one who asked for it, because then if it came out dry it would be his fault.

I used to find this one maddening. Now I give him a short list and make him choose from it. He will not say what he wants out of thin air, but he will pick between two things.

Reader Carol M., 58, of Fort Collins, Colorado, wrote that her husband says “you decide” about every restaurant and then sulks when she picks the wrong one. She now names two places and tells him to choose or go hungry. She says he chooses fast.

When he says he does not care, offer two options and watch his face.

He can repeat your last sentence and still have no idea what you said

Sunday morning I told Tom that our oldest was bringing a friend to dinner, that the friend did not eat beef, and that I needed him to grill a chicken breast on the side. He was watching a football recap. He said he was listening. I asked him what I had just said. He said, “Grill something.”

He had caught the last two words. The rest went by him.

This is not the same as not caring. It is a man who can only truly hear one thing at a time, and the television got there first. I have known this for decades. I still forget and talk to the back of his head.

The fix is not complicated. I turn off the television or I wait for a commercial. Then I say the thing once and ask him to say it back. It feels silly. It also means the chicken gets grilled.

If the television is on, he is not listening, no matter what he tells you.

He is lost long before he admits it

Our oldest’s friend lives out past the county line, and Tom offered to pick them up on his way back from the store. I offered to look up the address. He said he knew the road. He did not know the road. He called me from a dead end next to a cornfield and asked me to read the directions off my phone.

Tom will drive in the wrong direction for a long time before he will say he is lost. He says he is “taking a different way.” He says he “wanted to see the fall colors.” He will not say the plain thing, which is that he missed the turn.

I do not know why this one is so hard for men. I only know that in thirty years of marriage I have never once heard him say “I am lost” before I have figured it out myself.

Now I just read the directions out loud without asking if he needs them. He pretends he was not going to ask. We both know.

If he says he knows the way, pull up the map anyway.

He was asleep and he knows it

Sunday afternoon the grandkids were on the floor with blocks and Tom was in his chair. His head was back and his mouth was open. One of the little ones walked over and poked his arm. He sat up fast and said he was just resting his eyes.

Everyone laughed, including him. He had been out for twenty minutes. There was a line of drool on his chin.

This is the most harmless lie on my whole list, and it is also the one he tells most often. He does not want to be the grandpa who falls asleep during the visit. So he tells us he was awake, and we all nod, and then he gets up and plays blocks.

I added it to the list anyway, because I had the pad in my hand and because it made me smile.

He was asleep. Let him have it.

He would never read your blog and he reads every post

After everyone left, I showed Tom the grocery pad. He read the whole list standing at the fridge. He did not argue with a single one. He said I had missed one. I asked what. He said that he tells me he never reads my blog, and that he reads every post the morning it goes up.

I did not know that. I had believed him. He has been telling me for years that he does not have time for it.

I stood there with the dish towel and did not know whether to laugh or hit him with it. I did both.

That one went on the list last, in his handwriting. Then he loaded the fixed dishwasher himself, which he does not usually do, so I think he felt a little bad about the rest of the page.

He is paying more attention than he lets on. That lie is the one I will keep.

I have thought about this list a lot since that week. None of these are the lies that end marriages. If you are dealing with those, the lies about money that is gone or where he really was all night, please talk to someone who does this for a living and not to a woman with a grocery pad. But the small ones, the ones on my fridge, are mostly a man trying to look a little better than he feels and buy himself a little time. I have decided I can live with most of them, as long as I know which ones they are.

Which small lie does the man in your house think you have never caught?