When I was a child, I was creative.
That may not be the word my mother would choose to use for me,
But this is MY blog and I'll call me what I want!
I was a creative child, in other words...
I lied... a lot!
Now.. before you shake your head in condemnation, let me explain...
I didn't lie to get myself out of trouble.
I didn't lie to get my brother into trouble.
I lied because life was, well... Boring!
When I was five, I informed the deacons wives group at our church that my parents were adopting a baby, My mother would be very very tired, so the baby would sleep in my room and I would take care of it.
Imagine my parents surprise when the pastor prayed for a smooth transition for our growing family during that Sundays service.
My mother was also not too impressed when everyone at the bank asked her how much fun she had on our family vacation to Hawaii in the dead of winter.
Then there were the escaped giraffes that I saw while riding home on the school bus.
Oh and the many many comical adventures of Bandit and Rose, my 3rd grade class gerbils.
You see, they got out all of the time.. and Oh the chaos and comedy that ensued was epic!
My mother was a little embarrassed at THAT teachers conference when she giggled about the rodent escapades.
While my lies were plentiful, they were, relatively harmless.
You see... It wasn't MY fault life was a little dull.
I couldn't help it that, when my parents asked me,
"What happened at school today?" I didn't want to bore them with the usual responses of "Nothin" that every other kid told their parents.
I was only thinking of them!
I was being a GOOD child wanting their lives to have a little more "color"!
Flash-forward 30 years.....
The Little-Foreman-in-Pink went to spend the week-end with my mother.
Before they even made it to her house, my Mother called me...
"This IS your child!" she said, with an evil laugh.
Apparently, The Little-Foreman-in-Pink is terribly allergic to raccoons...
She was bitten three times on the leg by a raccoon...
But Don't tell Mommy!....
Because she is all better now, just as long as the raccoons stay away from her.
I think I can still hear my mother cackling at the thought of the sweet revenge that MY daughter will bring upon me.
I don't think that was very nice!
I think I'm a little scared.
Pray for me...
Or send Cheesecake!
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