A Small Lie That Haunts Me

I feel terrible about a little fib I told my wife last week. We've been together for decades now, and everything is good in our relationship, we're just as happy as ever, really. But the other day when she asked me if I had watered the flowers like I said I would, I panicked because I hadn't. So instead of admitting it to her, I lied and said they were already well-watered when I left for work that morning. The funny thing is, those flowers are in a high-tech system that waters them automatically while we're away. The system had been programmed months ago by our gardener who left the instructions with us, but I completely forgot about it all until she asked me this time. Now every day since, as I look out at them from my office window, I'm reminded of how silly and unnecessary that little fib was. Of course, it's not like they're suffering for lack of water, but still, telling the truth is important to us, and I've been trying to make amends by being more open with her since then.