ZINGER! By (taryn!)
K, this is only funny if you read my most recent independent bible study post. -city of Santa Monica comes up. I'm in the living room with just my daughter.. "Santa Monica." I say with a smile, "that's where I ran away to.." my daughter goes, "you ran away?". -and that's write about when I'm not sure whether I was suppose to bring this up or heed the parent editor warning signs.. Not sure, to be honest, whether I already told her too many times, or not at all; I have openly shared a variety of my youthful adventures.. But finding the appropriate time and place.. Making sure she is the appropriate age; tricky business. -but this alley cat was already out of the ripped bag, So I gave a very -very- abbreviated version. "yes. I was IN LOVE! You must know... LOVE! Michael Jackson.." /she already knows this name/some of the stories. It was his real name, not to be confused with the king of pop.."I was 15.. He was 23.. And he moved to Santa Monica.. My dad had already forbid.. But, please. So, yep. I poured a whole bunch of change (technically, stole..) out of my dads 3 gallon water bottle he used for collecting quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies.. Got myself enough for a one way greyhound bus ticket to Santa Monica.. And some soda, and cigarettes, I'm sure.. Carried a pocket knife for protection.. And it seems to me I also carried his robe.. Which carried his scent.. Anyway.. Seems like sue-sue drove me to the bus station.. And off I went.. (no cell phones.. No Internet, no gps..) -had left my dad a note, which I'm sure explained that I was in love, and doing what I had to do..and which he still expresses through a smile and clenched teeth, ended with "have a nice day". Long post short.. My dad wanted Michael arrested. My mom wanted me arrested.. But they explained to my mom, that if I were arrested, I would be strip searched.. And the whole thing might be too traumatic, considering my actual crime.. Being in love and young and stupid and all..so, instead my brother and a couple friends drove all the way to Santa Monica and found me and got me back home safely, somehow.". There's more to the story, but.. Without looking directly at me.. And slightly, but not completely under her breath, my daughter goes.. " -follow your heart." And what could I do but laugh? I've written this story before in more detail but not sure if I unpublished it.. But most all my childhood/teenage memories end the same: not with 'lived happily ever after' but rather, " I sure wouldn't have wanted to raise me!". - my poor parents... God Bless 'Em....
posted by SHE @ 10:13 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home