Trouble

  

 

                    Trouble
by Judy

I will not write about the few times I may or may not have received phone calls from school officials about any of my children getting into trouble at school. I will not write about the few times I may or may not have displeased school officials myself. I want to remain in my adult children’s lives, and I do not wish to jeopardize my reputation as Nana. There were a couple of students in my class who probably managed to graduate from high school without having seen the inside of the principal’s office, but I was not one of them. I will state my offenses were miner. I thought so at the time, and I still do. Yet, to this day, I do not talk while the vehicle I am in is crossing a railroad track.  

While I don’t wish to talk about any further school troubles I may or may not have had, my parents are no longer living, so I can fess up to a few of my misdeeds at home.

1.  It was I who spelled the bottle of white shoe polish on the brown carpet and managed to cover it with the footstool for a couple of weeks by volunteering to vacuum each week.
2. It was I who while hoeing the garden swung the hoe back and struck my little brother in the forehead. Wait…I guess my parents did know about that because my little brother tattled. In his defense he did carry the scar with him to his grave. He was justified in tattling, I guess. It was an accident which I sincerely regretted.
3. It was I who failed to turn the electric water pump off one hot summer night which caused the cattle tank to overflow and the well to go dry. Fortunately, the well had a natural spring and refilled within a day. While I never confessed to this, I was punished for the crime. Again, one of my brothers probably tattled.
4.  It was I who always ate the marshmallows when left in the house alone.  
5.  It was I who drank the last of what I thought was pineapple juice in a glass in the refrigerator. (Warning, be aware that pineapple juice and chicken broth look a lot alike in the dark. I should have just gone for a couple of spoons of applesauce.)

Parenting was difficult when I was a child, and it was difficult when my children were young. It remains a hard task today. Most parents do the best they can parenting given their circumstances and knowledge at the time. At least that’s what I tell myself when my children confess some of their heretofore unknown antics over the family’s Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner tables. I try not to act too surprised either.