Breaking the Rules is a Part of Growing Up

An important part of growing up is occasionally breaking a few rules. Of course, this should not include rules and laws that protect ourselves and others. However, even when bad choices are made, young people must begin thinking for themselves.

Every Christmas Dad bought a basket of the most wonderful chocolate candies. Unfortunately, we kids were each offered a piece about once a week until Christmas Day arrived. That is cruel and unusual punishment for a self-described “chocoholic.”

Therefore, through trial and error, I became an expert at opening the basket, taking out a couple pieces of delectable candy, and then rearranging the remaining sweets so that Dad would not realize that the basket had been invaded. The toughest part was learning how to re-wrap the wire on the lid so that no one would suspect the candy had been messed with.

During my high school years, I faced a midnight curfew on Friday and Saturday nights. Usually, I followed that rule, but one evening my date and I wanted to see a movie that was playing only in a town thirty miles away. Mustering all my courage, I asked Dad if I could stay out later because the movie we wanted to see was the last one on the docket. Surprisingly, he agreed.

What I did not tell him was that the movie we wanted to see was thirty miles away. You see, Dad's car was his pride and joy. It had to be washed even when it was not dirty, and we polished it so many times I'm surprised we didn't wear off the paint. Therefore, I didn't think he would trust me to drive his favorite possession to another town.

So we drove to that city, watched the film, and then made our way back home. Unfortunately, just a few miles from our destination, I discovered we had a flat tire. Opening the trunk, I got out the jack and the tire iron. Fear hit me like a run-away cement truck when I discovered the tire iron was the wrong size! Dad had just recently bought the car, so I assume as the workers cleaned the automobile they grabbed the first tire iron in sight and threw it into the trunk.

I had stopped at a hotel parking lot to change the tire, so I began knocking on hotel room doors. Several folks did not respond; the others told me more or less to take a flying leap. Spotting a house on a hill across the street, I instructed my date to lock the car doors while I went for help. The lady of the house was not too pleased that I was knocking on her door at one-thirty in the morning. She used some descriptive words that thankfully I have not heard since.

When all hope seemed lost, the kindly husband came to the door, asked what the problem was, and then instructed me to get his tire iron out of the back of his pickup truck. That trusting soul then told me to simply put it back in the truck once the job was completed.

Thank goodness it was the correct size. Since these were the days before cell phones, after fixing the flat I headed to the nearest phone booth (Kids, check with Grandpa if you've never heard of such a thing.) After telling Dad about the flat tire and the unusable tire iron, I hustled my date to her house and then raced home. If Dad had learned the entire story I'd probably be pushing up daisies!

Sneaking into the house late was not an easy task, for one had to walk down a squeaky hallway while looking into the faces of the old folks, whose room was at the end of the hall. During the daylight hours, while no one else was around, I memorized which boards did not squeak so that I would not arouse Mom from her slumber, because she was a light sleeper

Quickly veering off to the right into my own bedroom, I jumped under the covers while still wearing my clothes, because often Mom would awaken and stick her head into my room to see if I was there.

One night my sister came home late. Luckily, she had changed into her nightgown before going to the restroom. The sink was supported by two metal rods. Unfortunately, she knocked one of them onto the tile floor, which awakened the entire household. She got off the hook by saying she had been sleeping before going to the bathroom.

Now that I look back on these shenanigans, I wonder how many times my kids pulled this kind of stuff on me? On second thought, I don't want to know.