Monday, June 19, 2006

Memory Monday

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming! (Not that I won't talk about Ace incessantly... by the way, he went up to 3 pounds, 3 ounces, and dropped back down to 3 pounds 2 ounces, but he's not stalling at 3 pounds anymore! Whee! And he's off the c-pap machine, which is good, because seeing him on it broke his mommy's heart!)

As most of you know, I'm a little... mouthy. My mouth can definitely write checks that I can't cash. I've worked on it quite a bit and tamed myself over the years, though. At 12, unfortunately, I hadn't quite acquired that filter. So, my dad had to teach me a big lesson.

I rode the school bus with a girl named Liz. Liz and I were friends at one point, but then it all broke down and we hated each other. Junior high pressures and all. A lot of people in my neighborhood were scared of Liz, and, well, I was one of them. So one day, knowing my dad was picking me up at the bus stop, I got pretty spirited with her - and she responded in kind. I got off the bus, started working up some tears, and walked toward my dad's car. Liz was shouting at my back "Where are you going? Come back here!" My dad got out of the car and said "What's going on?" I said "Liz wants to beat me up!"

In my imagination, my dad said, "Mean old Liz. How dare she threaten my little girl. Let's go home and have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a big glass of milk and play Yahtzee until you feel better. Come give your dear old dad a hug."

In reality, my dad said, "Take your earrings off and go kick her a**." I said "WHAT?" He said "You heard me," lit a cigarette, raised his eyebrows, and dismissed me with a damning wave of his hand. I put my backpack down, took my earrings off, all the while giving him a look of "Where are my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" A look full of tears and betrayal.

I walked toward Liz, and she walked away. I think she had heard what my dad had said, and was pretty surprised, to say the least. Maybe she had written a check that her fists couldn't handle, too. That fight was over before it started. I got in my dad's car, and he told me that the only way I'd get people to leave me alone is to just beat them up.

Lesson learned. I knew more at 12 because of that lesson than most people going into prison know. My dad is a pretty smart guy.

6 comments:

Melinda said...

Ok, that story is just awesome.

Dyno-Man said...

Man after my own heart. Tok me getting to HS before I actually got enough nerve to stand up for myself, and have a parent have my back.

My kids would get the same treatment, after I taught them a few things...

Melinda Barton said...

OK, the other Melinda is weirding me out! Make her change her name, please!!!!!!! Go kick her a**, Stacey.

Aimee said...

I must say i remember being terrified of liz but she was always one to keep on your side in case of a fight. I always thought she was so cool, but you know she never got into one fight. The one time i thought i was going to get into a fight with her i went to hit her and she backed off and went home. Things were fine after that but she was afraid to get into a fight that she knew she couldn't win. I wish i remember that fight that you are talking about though. I think i block out a lot of the earlier stuff because the memories i make now are a lot better than the few i can remember.

cncz said...

that's my problem, i am too nice, i should have cut a few people months ago, man. i hope when i have kids i will teach them to stand up for themselves

Melinda said...

Wow, ok. Consider my ass kicked. I still think the post rocked, though. :)