Lessons

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

I really meant it.  Really.  What six year old caught in the cookie jar wouldn't?

In addition, Mom was there to provide follow up, so to speak.

So the next time, I not only didn't get to eat that scrumptious chocolate chip cookie, I missed the next three days of Sponge Bob.  And if you never saw a cookie jar with a lock on it, you should have visited our kitchen while I was growing up.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

Seven years old, and I lost my pet fish when it turned out that he didn't like playing with me on the floor.

Mom helped me to hold a funeral in the back yard.  Then informed me that there would be no exploring with Dora for a week.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

The cat that we got next loved playing on the floor with me.  Unfortunately, the cat didn't enjoy swimming like the fish did.  But how was an eight year old to know?

And really, the fur ball didn't have to knock the pink mouth wash over so hard that it flowed out onto the hallway carpet.  Not that the pink stain looked all that bad to me.

Mom demanded new carpeting for the hallway.  Dad demanded a week with no bicycle for me.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

Truthfully now, didn't you ever try on your Mom's lipstick and make up?

Well, weren't you a goody two shoes.  I tried it when I was nine.

Mom's action on that go round was to finish the make up job with a heavy hand, and to take a picture of me looking like a monster.  That picture showed me the error of my ways.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

It would be hard to understand what happened when I was ten, unless you know that I was going to a Parochial school.  Our class was putting on a Christmas show.  I was chosen to play Mary, and Michael was playing Joseph.  The wise men and the shepherds urged us on.  Since we were playing husband and wife, we should kiss.

That's when Sister Mary Elizabeth came back stage.  What an uproar.

I didn't get to go to the fifth grade dance, but probably didn't miss much.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

All right, make fun of me.  Yes, I was eleven, but what difference does that make?

Mom occasionally got lost when she was driving.  So why should I have been blamed when I got lost riding my new ten speed.  It was so fast that I covered a lot of ground.

Fifteen miles according to the officer who found me and brought me home.

No ten speed for two weeks.  Faster bike, longer punishment I guess.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

Wrong, wrong, wrong.  I wasn't twelve at this time.  I was fifteen.  Stayed out of trouble for four years.  So there.

Why do you think it would be more serious this time?

OK smarty pants, it did involve a boy.  Yes again.  This time I did get to go to the dance.  It was our High School Spring Fling.  But a Nun came in at the wrong time again.  Yes a Parochial High School.  What can I tell you?

Eddie and I had been in a darkened class room for about twenty minutes when Sister Ann turned on the lights.  Geez, you'd think we had our clothes off.  Maybe unbuttoned, but not off.

It was a whole year before I got to go to more dances.  By then, both the boys and I had our driving licenses, so we didn't have to worry about a Nun turning on the lights.

"I did it once, I'll never do it again."

Unfortunately, we did have to worry about a patrolman lighting up the car with an unbelievingly bright spot light.  And the old busy body reported to Mom that this time there were some clothes off.

Good news however.  Since I've been in college, I haven't had to say that old line about not doing it again.

Learned my lessons?

Well, more like out growing having someone looking over my shoulder.

Let's party!