The Vacation is Over

Where were we? I'd feel more guilty for breaking my post-a-day roll if I hadn't come home from a very long week at work to find the newest issue of a favorite magazine, a small chocolate doughnut from out favorite local shop, and my husband in the kitchen making dinner. Relaxation oozed from the arrangement and Andrew's demands for me to leave the kitchen and sit down to enjoy the sweet tea he'd made washed away any guilt I was mildly tinkering with after considering the posting delay. but, back to the list, because time is dwindling and there's still more to remember.

I'm not sure if this will surprise you or not, but I didn't get in trouble a lot as a child. My biggest punishment was over my messy room, which really, might need to be a post all on its own. I was generally, though my mother might be able to say different, a good, well-behaved child. I had two rules I clearly remember: no makeup outside of the house until I turned 13, and no single/double dates (also called car dates) until I turned 16. I don't remember how much the makeup rule bothered me, though I remember few whines about not being able to sport anything more than Bonne Bell Lip Smackers, a whine that overwhelms with irony now when I only put on Lip Smackers "Bubblegum" each morning. The dating rule, to my hormone addled middle school brain? Yeah, I probably still need to apologize to my mom for some of the screams I released over that one.

So when my 7th grade boyfriend and his best friend wanted to go to a movie with my friend and me? I lied. My mom dropped us off at the theater in the middle of the afternoon and we, acting no cooler than we were, met up with the boys inside, though I can almost guarantee that we barely spoke to them the entire time. Were they worth lying to our parents and sneaking around for? Of course. Were they were worth acting mature and making conversation with? Of course not. We thought we were home free when we left the theater, but my mother knew right away and let me tell you - I knew she knew. During the walk from the theater to my mother's tight grip and frightening close ear whispers I learned the most important lesson of my youth: YOU CANNOT LIE TO MY MOTHER. When we arrived home there was quite a bit of yelling and door slamming, fueling my youthful drama. I had never seen my parents so angry and to this day that was the most trouble I've ever been in - two weeks grounding, no phone, no friends, no boys.

I'd like to have some redeeming aspect to all of this, like the film we saw was so incredible and timeless that even with silent, clammy hand holding and plenty of lost trust and parental disappointment it was worth it, but the image above was more than just a place holder. Wait, that film didn't change your life, too, with those incredibly witty lines, suspenseful, unique scenes? That's what I thought.

I haven't watched it again sine that day, and though I considered it just in case it might bring back even more memories of that day, I couldn't do it. I'd say the day wasn't worth it either, that getting in that much trouble and seeing my parents so upset was something I'd like to erase, but even though it made me cringe, it taught me where the boundaries were and I was much better about living within them.