Much as I love my dad to bits, I do rather enjoy... well, deceiving isn't the word... more being economical with the truth around him. But then again, that's the life of an anonymous sex blogger. If I'm ever a dad myself, and I'm still writing a sex blog, I'll have to keep it hidden from my children. But that's a scary thought, and I will never, ever, ever dwell on it again.
I don't lie much. It's not in my nature to lie. I tell my dad that my friend Nimue is a model, which she is. I say the same about Josh, which isn't technically untrue. And he knows that while I go to Spiritual Space ("a Christian discussion group", which it is) and the CCK socials ("a meetup for people who used to go to the café", which it is), he also knows I now go to "a monthly networking and performing event for young writers". That's Erotic Meet... and although it's not far from the truth, the Meets aren't just for young people... or writers.
But I'm young(ish), and I write (if you can call this writing), so it seems to work in an odd way. My dad doesn't ask me what I write, but then, he's smart enough not to do that. He's an actor, so shutting up about your performance until your turn in the limelight comes it the best thing you can do, really.
There are some things I don't tell him, though. I don't mention that I won a competition, or that the prize is a bag of sex toys. I mention meeting people of Twitter, but he doesn't know that it's almost guaranteed I've seen the bare flesh of nearly all the people I've met at one point or another. And then there's this:
"We're having Nanna and Grumps for lunch on Sunday."
"Inevitable cannibalism jokes aside, I'll be here for that. I'll likely be tired, but I'll be here."
"Why will you be tired? You're going somewhere, aren't you?"
"Oh yes, you're going to that thing for writers, aren't you?"
"...Yes? I mean, yes!"
Well, it's not technically untrue.
"When are you leaving?"
"How many alarms have you set?"
"Okay, well, have fun."