Usually I tend to be self-deprecating on my posts. However, when I went to elementary school in Duncan, OK, I was adorable. The tiny Catholic elementary school I went to was about a half a mile from our house. I used to walk back and forth to school experiencing new adventures every day. Like most little boys the bond with my mom was very strong. During the Spring when the flowers were blooming, I would frequently pick small bouquets to take home to my mother. She recognized based on the type of flowers I brought home that they were most likely from people’s gardens. She would ask me where I had gotten them and I told her I found them growing wild. Even though she suggested I no longer bring her the bouquets I knew she really liked the flowers so all I heard was blah, blah, blah. When you’re adorable and trying to make your mother happy, how is it possible for her to strongly discipline you. A neighbor around the corner from our house grew giant sunflowers every year. She didn’t grow many because the plants were massive. When they bloomed, the flowers were above the garage. One year only a single bloom resulted from the plants. I became determined to give that single bloom to my mother which I believed would make her so happy. Finally the day arrived when I determined the bloom was full. With the help of a tree I climbed up on their garage and grabbed the sunflower. At the same time, I heard the back screen door open and close adn the homeowner started screaming at me. Doing the responsible thing, I jumped off the garage and ran to our house hiding the sunflower under my bed. I had no idea why I thought I could avoid punishment. Living around the corner, the lady knew who I was and where I lived. I had snuck in the back door so my mom didn’t even know I was home. Moments later there was a beating on the door and the raised voice of the neighbor. When my mom came into my room she had a look of anger I have never seen before. She asked for the flower. Trying one more time to stay out of trouble, I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Usually my way to escape being in trouble was by slipping into full adorable mode. It was clear in this case that wasn’t going to work and my clock was going to be cleaned. My mom escorted me to the living room with the flower which I had quickly recovered and apologized for being such an awful, awful child. What happened after that must have been really bad because I can’t even remember it.