A Criminal Act
When I was little my mother had a number of stays in the hospital. She never complained but it was tough on her. My Aunt Helen and Uncle Joe, a police sergeant would keep me at their house a few blocks from mine. I was about five years old and had spent a week or so with my cousins, my Aunt Helen baked a lemon meringue pie for me to take home to my parents.
About halfway home I noticed a thick bushy tree in front of a neighbor’s house. The smell of the hot pie overcame my sense of right and wrong. Just one bite led to another and soon all the pie was gone. I hid the pie plate under the little porch behind me. A few days later Aunt Helen called my mom to ask me to bring the pie plate back. The gig was up and my life of crime had been discovered. I have never lived that event down but they laughed too hard to sentence me.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Mo (A Criminal Act)
Mmm, looking through the past few blog posts and noticing that they are on the serious side. How about kicking it with a funny post today? But first, some sound effects. Before reading out loud in class, Mo whispered, "It's the first time I've ever confessed this." Around the table, the rest of us gasped, squealed, magnified our eyes and huddled closer. And then, finally, Mo began: "The… Cr…iminal… Act!" The gasping, squealing, magnifying and huddling happened all over again...