The Tangled Hair Incident

So here's something I've been ruminating about lately, why do we sometimes lie for such trivial reasons? You know what happened at the park yesterday? I was taking my little ones there to let them run around and burn off some of that seemingly endless energy, but my eldest, Lily, had an absolute fit. She wanted me to braid her hair like Cinderella's, complete with glittery headbands and all the fixings. The problem? My braiding skills are about as graceful as a three-toed sloth on ice skates. I tried anyway, figuring I could just tie it up or tell her she looked beautiful regardless of my amateurish work. But the real crux came later when one of our neighbors, who always praises Lily's hair no matter what, complimented her on how neat and perfect it was. Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't outright lie to this neighbor about my abilities, but I certainly didn't mention how I had to sneak into the bathroom for ten minutes with a comb when they weren't looking, fixing knots that should never have existed in the first place! It got me thinking: why do we go through such lengths just to avoid admitting our own shortcomings? I guess sometimes it’s easier to keep up appearances than admit we could use a little help or practice.