How Does The Empty Pot Teach Honesty?

To avoid being accused of favoritism, my mother forced me, despite my severe anemia, to participate in the school's group blood donation drive. After only 100 milliliters, my vision started going dark. I reached for the needle, trying to stop the procedure, but the young nurse immediately grabbed my wrist and pinned it down. "Only 100 milliliters and you already want to quit? The other students all donated 400." She glanced at my pale face, her eyes full of disgust. "Donating blood is something honorable. Selfish people like you, pretending to be sick just to get out of it, deserve to have double drawn as punishment!" Nearby, my mother watched me coldly, disappointment written all over her face. "Briana Hayes, is this really how I raised you? "Everyone else donated. Don't think you're special. "You will finish these 400 milliliters today, even if it kills you!" I gasped for air, my heartbeat pounding so violently it felt like my chest would explode. By the time they reached the third bag, my vision had completely blurred, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor. My soul slowly drifted upward as I looked at my mother with guilt in my eyes. I'm sorry, Mom. I really wasn't lying. This time… I truly couldn't hold on any longer.

A parent in my son's preschool group chat tagged me out of nowhere. "Theo's dad, your son's lunches always look pretty nice. Starting tomorrow, pack one for my daughter too." "I'm not asking for free food. I'll give you ten dollars a day. That adds up. You can make a little extra on the side." I stared at the message, almost laughing from how absurd it was. My son has severe food sensitivities and a fragile stomach. Every ingredient in his meals is specially sourced, and a single lunch costs far more than five hundred dollars to prepare. And this man thought ten dollars could buy it? I replied with two words: "Not happening." The next day, my son came home crying. His lunch had been taken by another child, and the teacher had scolded him for being selfish. Fine. Since they wanted to push this far, I would show them exactly how far I could go.

My son, Archie Burton, has a bad habit of being painfully honest. I ask him, "Am I handsome?" "To be honest, Dad," he says, "you're the ugliest dad in the whole kindergarten." My mother-in-law tears into me for being a spendthrift after I buy Archie an expensive backpack, and I ask him how he feels about it. "Honestly," he says, "it makes me happy to watch you get chewed out." My wife asks him jokingly if he'll take care of me when I get old. "No way am I looking after him," he says. "When he gets old, he should just die." My heart sinks. But Archie just smiles. "I'm only telling the truth!" Then the police come by to conduct a census check and ask him a few simple questions. He is brutally honest as usual. Only this time, he regrets it for the rest of his life.

My mom tends to speak the truth no matter what the occasion it is. When my boyfriend visits our family, Mom makes small talk with him happily. "Tiffany once contracted HPV when she was in her second year of college. Please don't judge her for that. Haha!" When my friend comes over to hang out with me, Mom leans in to take a closer look at her face. "With those high cheekbones and hollow cheeks, you've got 'short life' written all over your face! I guess only Tiffany is willing to hang out with you." Later on, I finally nailed a job as a governmental employee after putting in hard work for half a year. During the background check, Mom starts running her mouth about the "truth" again. "I think there's something wrong with Tiffany's moral ethics. First of all, she loves lying. Second of all, she's disrespectful to me. If your department does end up hiring her, you've gotta be careful." Undoubtedly, I get disqualified because of her words. That's when I get into a huge fight with Mom. But that woman has the audacity to talk back to me. "All I did was speak the truth about you! The fact that your department doesn't want you means that you lack the capability! Don't ever think that you get to pin the blame on me!" I fall silent at her words. Since Mom loves telling the truth that much, I might as well use the truth to destroy her.

My daughter Lyra believed the Moon Goddess had given our kind one virtue above all others: honesty. So she never told a single lie. I put on a newly bought lipstick and turned in front of the mirror. "Sweetheart, does Mommy look pretty today?" She glanced up at me. "Honestly, Mommy, you were ugly to start with, and that color only makes it worse." One evening I was scrambling around the kitchen while my mother-in-law scolded me for not being able to cook a decent meal. I asked Lyra, "Grandma says Mommy's useless. Does that upset you?" She kept stacking her blocks. "Honestly, I'm actually glad you're getting scolded." That night, while my husband read her a bedtime story, he asked whether she would take care of me when I was old and could no longer walk. She thought it over seriously, then rolled onto her other side. "No way. A useless wolf should just go off and die on its own." Something in me went cold. She only grinned. "But I'm just telling the truth." Later, when a caseworker from the Pup Welfare Council came to register us for the census and asked Lyra a few routine questions, she insisted on telling nothing but the truth. This time, though, it was a truth she would regret for the rest of her life.

After I get hospitalized from a stroke, I tell my son, Raymond Thornton, to come to the hospital and pay for my hospital bills. But my daughter-in-law, Vivian Mills, mumbles in displeasure, "It's just a stroke, isn't it? Why is she being so whiny? Also, she's called you so many times! Is she asking you for help or ordering you to do her bidding?" I pretend to not hear Vivian's words. After that, I waited the whole night for Raymond. The thing is, he never shows up despite the fact that he has agreed to come to the hospital. The next day, he finally calls me on the phone. "Mom, if I'm not mistaken, there should be some money left in your medical insurance, right? Why don't you use that money to pay the bills for the time being? I'll make sure to care for you more in the future!" While Raymond is still making empty promises over the phone, I hear another voice appear in my mind. "Ding! An empty promise has been detected! Fair Balance System is now activated!" "Once I'm back, I'll buy the best medication for you!" "Calculation in progress. The amount deducted for the best medication available is 6599 dollars!" The next moment I know, I receive a text, stating that the money is now in my bank account.