Recently I shared a story of nighttime hi-jinx where a few of us Prytania boys broke a commandment. Now that’s it’s been more than 40 years ago, memories like that one can be fun to look back on and reminisce with the cohorts equally responsible. It’s no fun being stolen from though and I have been on the receiving end of that commandment a few times. This week I thought I’d share one of those stories.
Growing up, I didn’t attend a lot of church. On Goodman Avenue, (ages 5-10), I attended Vacation Bible School (VBS) a few weeks in the summer. I don’t think church was Dad’s thing and Mom’s thing was doing whatever Dad said. When Mom got divorced and married to Joe, she discovered that she had quite a bit more freedom to do as she pleased. Finding her church was one of those.
Even though we didn’t attend church on a regular basis when I was young, we were raised under a Christian roof. As such, we were taught the Ten Commandments. Well, ok…we were too young to discuss half of them, but numbers 3, 5, 6, 8 & 9 – those we knew. If we broke them, we knew we’d meet up with a belt or a switch. Eight and Nine, those two I was scared to death to break because my Dad warned us about them on a regular basis.
8 & 9? Stealing and lying; never steal and never lie. One day I did both. I did both, was immediately found out and then immediately punished for my crimes. Continue reading