Bad Children

I had dinner with a few co-workers on Wednesday and somehow we got talking about naughty things we did when we were children. I was shocked to discover that I am not the only one who did mean/sneaky/naughty when I was a child. I have always looked at what I was like when I was little and been really embarrassed that I did such sneaky, naughty things. Like, for example, the year I got roller skates for my birthday (don't read this, mom). A week before my birthday I "discovered" them in my mom's closet and spent the next few days roller skating around the house with them on. And then I had to act surprised when I received them. I'm hoping my mom never reads this so I never have to find out whether she knew or not. Then there was the Christmas (a few years earlier) when I "discovered" we were getting a Lite Brite for Christmas. But on Christmas morning, said gift was not under the tree. And I couldn't exactly figure out how to tell mom that she was missing a gift. We got it later that day (I think). There are other, more devious, things that I did that I won't tell you about, because my mom reads my blog and I want her to think I was a "good kid". HA! I think she already knows I'm not, but the illusion is fun.

Sometimes it feels like I am one of the only people on my staff that has actual bad things in their past. I remember one co-worker gasping that I had fingered someone on the way to work. She said she has NEVER fingered anyone. And I thought holy crap, I'm evil.

So now you have discovered that I am a very imperfect person. I have flaws that have flaws. I am flawed. I have a very devious mind. But I don't want to. I just do. If I could stop my mind from working the way it does, I would. And just so you know, being devious is very, very, very hard work. Or at least I like to make you THINK it is. Wah ha ha ha ha.