Lies

 These days the young boy's parents spent most of their time drawing floor plans on blank white sheets of paper. This was unlike anything he had seen them do before. His father was a TV journalist and the ten-year-old knew that this was not a part of his job.

'What is it that you and mom make on the paper all the time?' the boy asked his father one day.

'This is our plan for the new house we will be constructing soon,' replied the father.

'And what are these?' asked the boy pointing to the columns his father had drawn.

'These are columns, a building stands on the,' replied the father.

'What are they made up of?'

'Iron rods and cement,' said the father.

'Why?' asked the curious boy.

'For strength,' replied the father slightly irritated.     

'Why?' asked the boy again.

'Because anything that is erected on a week base collapses; don't you have common sense?' replied the father impatiently.  

At that point, his father's phone rang.

'Talk to your grandfather' said the boy's father handing him the phone, 'tell him I am busy.'

The boy picked the phone and excitedly spoke into it,' Grandpa! You know what? My parents are going to build a strong house so that we may live in it after the collapse of father's career!'

The boys' statement left both his father and grandfather puzzled.

'Why will his careers collapse?' asked his grandfather laughing.

'Father just told me that whatever is erected on a weak base collapses and everyone knows that father's career is erected on half-truths and outright lies'. Obviously, it will collapse one day,' said the boy innocently.

The imminent journalist angrily threw the pencil on the floor and before the boy could realise what was happening he got a tight slap on his left cheek. The phone fell from his hand and a web of cracks appeared on the screen.