One warm summer day, I was sitting in my parents car. Back in the day when parents could leave children in cars unattended. The car was parked in front of Woolworth department store. Dad said, "we'll be right back, stay in the car."
I was only three years old. I was a bright, curious child. I like to explore everything around me. Not much has changed.
Outside of the tan colored building I spot a little red box about ten feet from the car. Being curious, I get out of the car. I was pretty smart for my age, I was learning to read. I slowly walk toward the box, in hopes my parents don't come out and catch me!
P-U-L-L, yup, I knew what that meant. I did as it said, I pull the little red box open. So, that's odd, I thought. What was that for? Then a button says P-U-S-H. Again, I did as it said.
"Holy hell! What is going on?! I'm in trouble now!" I say to myself. The sound is so scary, I'm petrified! I stand there and cry hysterically! People are running out of the store, fire trucks pull in, I'm so scared!
"I am bad, I am in trouble, what did I do?! I only did what it said!" Yup, you guessed it, straight to hell is where I'm going!
Oh no, there's my dad! He spotted me! No words were exchanged. One firm hand on the ass and in the car I went!
(So today I realize I'm not really going to hell for that. Karma got me...as I was carrying my second son out of the YWCA when he was three, he didn't want to leave so as we were going down the hallway, he grabbed hold of the fire alarm; he only had to pull! How embarrassing! No hand on his ass, but I did make him tell the firemen what he did and made him apologize!)
Huh, you seem awfully confident that the God of the Firefighters' Sacktime will be forgiving you for that sinful act!
ReplyDeleteIt's the last graf, the parenthetical, that really kicks this up a notch.