here today

 

sneaky sneak

I hate being chastised.  I mean, I spent my whole childhood sneaking around in order to avoid that moment when they say they're Disappointed.  Such a horrible word.  My sister would yell "fuck you" and slam the front door on her way out for the night but I would open a window in the basement, wait until everyone was asleep, and then sneak.  I was such a sneaky little sneaker.  I'm not proud of it.  It's not how I would do things now.  The door slam looks a lot more fun from here.  But back then, it was really tremendously important to me that I have my crazy mother's goodwill.  That she not be disappointed.  She liked to say that I was the one she didn't have to think about.  Slam!

Here at the insurance agency, they are very careful about supply ordering.  I just got the chastising "could you try to plan your ink supply needs a little better?" email.  And it took me right back to being 17 and wanting to make out with my boyfriend and how it turned out hiding him in my closet when I heard the van in the driveway wasn't such a good idea.  My mom found him on the floor, behind the sliding mirrored door, looking sheepish.  My mom could make anyone look sheepish.  It's her specialty.

She was Disappointed in both of us.  I sat on the couch, mortified, next to my cool boyfriend who made LSD in his closet and whose parents let us have sex in his room while they were home.  He had a pet rat, and earrings and wrote Poetry.  My parents made me go to Sunday School and I had to be home by ten even on the weekends. 

If I had an office. With a door.  I swear I'd slam it.

Posted by: 120pages at 13:03 | link | comments (1) |