Welcome to My Childhood

When you're a kid, you really never give being a kid much thought. It's called innocence, until you see how other kids act around their parents, and then... undoubtedly, you loose some. People tell me my childhood was completely fucked up. I know. I can see that now but... way back then... I thought it was normal. I thought I was normal. Now, I realize, nothing I did was normal. Nothing about me, was normal...

I recently asked my mother if she thought I was a good kid or not. My mom gave me a heartfelt smile and said, "honestly, you were all the BEST. Compared to other kids, or myself when I was growing up, you guys were saints!" She was referring to me, my two brothers and my three sisters.

I didn't think she was being honest, not with the rap sheet I had under my belt, so I decided to dive in head first.

me: "You remember when I almost caught the forest on fire?"

mom: "Yeah. Brent and you were always getting into trouble. But you didn't set the forest on fire, did you?"

me: "Eh, I suppose not. Okay, what about the time we lit off a bunch of fireworks while you weren't home?"

mom: "Did you kill yourself? No. Remember when your brother lit that entire 15,000 firecracker thing off in his hand?"

me: "Yeah. I saw it happen. Oh my god."

mom: "Even then... you weren't breaking into houses. You weren't stealing cars."

me: "Who was doing that sort of stuff?"

This is when my mom really opened my eyes to the truth of other kids, and just how bad other kids, really were. While I thought lighting off a quarter stick of dynamite at the boyscout camping trip was a super cool thing to do, I had no idea my brother's friend raped someone... or that his little brother burned down their house... TWICE.

My ventures into the partially built homes in our area, to illegally procure some building materials and build tree-forts in the woods, professional style, was mild compared to other kids my age. One kid shot his brother in the leg for taking something off his plate. Like, literally just got up from the dinner table, went into his room, came back out with his .306 and shot his brother in the leg. Luckily, the wound wasn't that bad, and the bullet went right through, but he could have died. That was Attempted Murder.

While I was out polly-wogging and fishing in streams and ponds I wasn't allowed to, other kids my age were stealing cars, breaking into peoples homes while they weren't home, and taking things. My mother told me about the time we went on vacation, and asked the next door neighbors to keep an eye on the house. We gave them a key, and changed the code to the alarm system and let them have the temp code while we were gone. When we came back, the front window was broken. My parents immediately went into lockdown mode.

Once my father inventoried all his guns, and my mother verified none of her fine china or other valuables were missing, we were in a pure fit of confusion on who, or why, anyone had broken in. Surely it wasn't the neighbors! They had a key and the code to the alarm! They were in our house every day. Well... six months later, my mother is at the neighbors for a visit, and she sees something she hadn't noticed was missing. It was an old antique dry goods scale she'd kept as an antique, and really didn't use that often... When she asked the neighbor if that was her scale... the true story came out.

Apparently, the neighbor kids had a fledgling marijuana business, and needed a scale that was accurate, and could weigh a lot of weed. They couldn't ask for it. They couldn't just take it, not in their minds anyway, so they made it look like someone had broken in... broke a window and sent us all into hysterics, over a $15 dry goods scale from the 1940's.

I thought attempted murder and stealing right under our noses was bad, but my mother wasn't done yet. She told me how, when she was a kid, she was an "early bloomer" and by the age of twelve, she looked like she was old enough to be in a bar. She'd been brought up in a strictly Catholic religious household, attended Catholic school taught by nuns where she was abused and tortured by them, and when she was old enough to become rebellious, she took every opportunity. She smoked weed, ran away from home, stayed the night at other people's houses, and ended up getting pregnant at the ripe old age of 15... with me.

While that was crazy enough to satisfy her winning the war of who was the worse kid growing up, my aunt had us both beat. She smoked weed, she got pregnant and had a child (my cousin) two years before my mother did, swore, drank, did every imaginable "bad" thing you could think of, and... the worst part, was when she swore at my grandfather.

Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. "WHAT?" Well, apparently, my aunt had just won some sort of track and field competition and she was regarded as the fastest person around. Around what? I dunno. But she thought she was hot shit. So when my Grandpa told her she was grounded for swearing, she did it again, and then she ran. She laughed at him and told him, he was slow, and old, and he couldn't catch her, so he couldn't punish her. Word is, my grandpa caught her ass so fast, his feet were the only thing hotter than her ass, after he got done whooping it.

From stealing cars to breaking an entering, to shooting people, I had no idea I was such a good kid. I never swore at my mother. I tried to not disrespect her if I could possibly avoid it. My mother was always there for me, always took an interest in what I did, and encouraged me at every chance. I did the same for my kids, and I gotta be honest, my kids are the best. How I was ever blessed with kids as good as mine, is beyond me, but I was.

So for all of you out there wondering what you can possibly do to turn your kids around, or keep them out of trouble... or just some friendly advice, here it is. Be there. Take in interest. Talk to them about life, morals, ethics, and more. Ask them what they would do in certain situations and then give them your take on it. Let them know things they might not think of, repercussions, or why certain things are the way they are. Make a point to be interested in the things they do.

Another quick tip... phones and videos games are the new life for a lot of kids. Taking them away, or physically punishing them for things, just builds resentment. Instead of being super controlling, or jumping on their ass every five minutes, sit down with them. Play a game. get involved. Ask then for help. Let them teach you a thing or two, and in turn, maybe the both of you will learn a thing or two you didn't already know.

Thanks for reading! I publish a lot of stories here, a lot of science fiction and fantasy. I also have THREE novels in the works and I'm looking for a publisher if anyone knows a good one. Please subscribe, like, or leave me a tip so I can keep doing what I love. Writing, and living this life the only way I know how.