ER
Mars Attacks

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Mars Attacks

Yay! Jackie! Jackie plays with Reese. Peter walks in and Jackie asks him what he's doing home. Peter tells the half-truth that there's a surgical conference (there is?), and that all elective surgery was cancelled for the day, so he thought he'd come home and play with Reese. Jackie remarks that being an attending has its privileges. Benton is really cute with Reese. Reese plays with a truck, so Benton asks whether Reese wants to be a fireman. Reese shakes his head. Benton picks up a horse, and asks if Reese wants to be a cowboy, the answer, once again, negative. Benton grins at him, and watches as Reese picks up a toy stethoscope and puts it in his ears. Jackie laughs that she'll have two doctors in the family. Oh, the dramatic irony of it all. Plus, Benton, the longer you wait to tell Jackie you lost your job, the worse it's going to be, because even though we all know you're going to get your job back eventually, you should know that she is going to find out, and be right pissed that you kept it from her. You just can't keep a secret like that. It's like the time I put a huge (and I mean basketball-sized) dent in my parents' Diplomat by reversing into a pole I didn't see at the U.S.-Canadian border. (Kids: always shoulder-check!) I was living in another city a few hours' drive away for the summer and had come home for a long weekend. My parents were away the day I put the dent in the car so I thought I could park it in the garage, they'd drive the Tempo, wouldn't see the dent until I'd already gone back to Kingston, and wouldn't put the blame on me. Why wouldn't they, knowing I was the last person to drive it? I don't know. It seemed reasonable at the time. In fact, I practiced my cover story by telling my friend kitten that I'd noticed the dent when I got in the car at the mall in Buffalo where I'd been shopping, and that the best I could figure was that someone must have hit the Diplomat in the parking lot. She was like, "Really?" and I was like, "No. But did that sound believable?" Anyway, my parents returned the next day, and my dad saw the dent (because he wasn't blind, and because you literally could not miss the dent if you were oh, say, getting into the driver's seat), and came into the house where I was nervously chatting with my mom and asked how I thought the car had been dented. I was like, "It...what? Dent?" and my mom actually started laughing because my guilt was so clearly written across my face. And the ironic coda of the story is that, before dropping me at my train the next day, my dad had to give me my new CAA (the Canadian equivalent of AAA) membership card. D'oh! After a couple of days, he got over it -- at the time of the accident, the car was already sold to one of my mom's co-workers for use by one of his bum teenagers -- but the story is still retold with much mirth at family gatherings all these six years later. My point -- and I do have one -- is that the truth will out, especially when you lie to a family member who (a) knows you well, and (b) will be hurt to have been deceived, so it's better to tell the truth at the earliest opportunity.

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