Little Stalky is a Rubbish Liar

When planning a variety of surprises for your boyfriend's 30th birthday there comes a time when a Little Stalky has to lie.  Actually, there comes many a time when a Little Stalky has to lie.  And these aren't bad lies.  Not evil lies.  These are cute little white lies that you know, in the long run, will make your Mystical Roo very happy.    I had to cover my tracks.  Internet histories were deleted, presents were hidden under pants, croissants were tucked away behind chocolate ice cream, cash was used, plans were made and lies were told.  What are you doing today Little Stalky?  I'm not secretly putting together a slideshow of photos from your childhood, Mystical Roo.  What are you doing today Little Stalky?  I'm not comparing prices of knives and searching for hotels in close proximity to a show that we don't have tickets for.  What are you doing today Little Stalky?  I'm not placing an order for party supplies.  The party supplies were probably the thing that caused me the most stress.  After much time on my amazing spreadsheet of comparative prices I placed my order for party supplies only to discover that the order wouldn't go through.  I was confused.  I checked that I'd ticked all the right boxes, filled in all the correct information and entered the correct card details.  Nothing.  I reconfirmed with Monster Noggin that we indeed had the correct card details.  Nothing.  So I phoned the company for assistance but they too seemed confused as to why the order wasn't going through.  They decided I would have to leave it with them.  They would call me back.  Call me back.  Ok, but I just knew that call would come through with Mystical Roo sitting right next to me.  So I had a plan.  I would put the phone on silent and simply let the call go to voice mail.  I even had a plan b.  If the first plan failed and my phone somehow announced in flashy phone style that an incoming call was in progress then I would pick up the phone, press the red hang up button and pretend there was no one there.  A cunning plan indeed.  I even had a plan c.  A plan in case I accidentally hit the wrong button and inadvertently answered the phone.  I would claim a wrong number.  Oh yes.  I had it planned.  But then, it dawned on me why the order wasn't going through.  It wasn't their system, it wasn't the computer, it wasn't the internet connection.  No, it was my dopey brain having an apparently dyslexic moment and reading the expiry date of the card in the wrong order.  Month then year not year then month.  Good God!  So I fixed the problem, placed my order and emailed the company to assure them that everything had been fixed.  Good.  So I thought that was it.  And I didn't put the phone on silent.  So when at 19.00 that night the phone started chirping away and I didn't recognise the number it dawned on me that they had not received my email.  Oh dear.  But wait!  There was still plan b and even plan c.  But I panicked.  I totally panicked.  I answered the phone as casually as I could.  The woman asked if it was me.  I said no.  She asked if I'd called the company earlier on.  I said no.  The woman seemed confused.  I panicked again.  I ended up running into the bedroom, shutting the door and whispering urgently to the woman that it was all a surprise, my boyfriend was in the house and I couldn't talk.  I then hung up, feeling ever so slightly rude.  Then I realised that I'd just disappeared into the bedroom with my phone.  Well that's not suspicious at all.  So I grabbed my lip balm in a vague attempt to make it look like I'd been in there for a reason.  Something that, in retrospect, Mystical Roo probably didn't even notice I was carrying even though I was making a great show of applying lip balm to my lips.  Mystical Roo was playing on the PlayStation but still looked up to enquire who was on the phone.  Again, I panicked and came out with the most ridiculous suggestion that Hot Frog had called, at 19.00 to offer me ad space.  At 7 o'clock? was the query from Mystical Roo.  I confirmed that it was true and then scurried away to the kitchen.  Mystical Roo did not question things any further.  I consoled myself with the fact that even if Mystical Roo had been suspicious of the phone call he probably had no idea that it was a party company calling about party supplies.  I later regaled Mystical Roo with tales of my horrifying phone call.  Mystical Roo shrugged and said he hadn't thought anything of it.  So either I'm a better liar than I thought or Mystical Roo simply doesn't pay attention.  I suspect it's the latter.