I never snuck out of the house when I was a kid. Not even once. That was the kind of kid I was. I did what I was told, laid low, waited to grow up, and daydreamed about being the kind of kid that actually did sneak out to meet boys or go to wild parties or to drive to Canada. Dreaming about sneaking out seemed safer. I wasn’t a big fan of being grounded for weeks and I was busy anyway…with drama club. Yep, that was the kind of kid I was.
Of course, as an adult, I haven’t really had a chance to sneak out. I mean, before Tiny-Small was born I came and went as I pleased. I was never in a situation that required me to sneak out. After Tiny-Small was born I couldn’t sneak out. Since she is with me all the time sneaking out is impossible. She’s much too loud to pull it off. Even when we sneak around the library she can’t help but yell out, “Look, Mom, there is a girl!” I suppose I could sneak out without her, but the crying would probably give me away. Besides, I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t sneak out on my child and leave her wondering where I went. I usually just tell her I am leaving, give her a quick kiss and a wave, and everything goes smoothly.
So, in reality, I spend much more time trying to sneak into things than I do trying to sneak out of them. I try to sneak into the bathroom alone. I try to sneak into the box of cookies in the cabinet and then try to sneak into the closet to eat them. I try to sneak in reading a few chapters of my book. I try to sneak in a quick shower, a cat-nap, a phone call. I try to sneak in a few extra vegetables into Tiny-Small’s fruit smoothy. I try to sneak into Twitter chats about fashion and blogging. I try to sneak into painting workshops and online art groups. I try to sneak in a few moments with friends. I am usually sneaking in and almost never sneaking out.
One time, in my twenties, I snuck into a movie theater to see a movie with a friend. After sitting there for three minutes I felt so guilty that I got up and snuck out to pay. I kept asking myself if this movie was going to be worth getting arrested, going to court and then spending the rest of my life in jail. That’s the kind of dramatic thinking that goes on in my head. Every wrong doing results in jail, death or deportation.
My childhood did not provide me with the experiences needed to successfully sneak in or out of anything. I always get caught with my hand in the cookie jar. The dogs lead everyone to my hiding place in the closet and the fashion ladies on Twitter spot me from a mile of Twitter feed away. I am pretty sure I will never have a career as a bandit or a ghost or a social media lurker. I can’t stop myself from commenting or from rattling my ghostly chains. I always have to add my two cents. I’m no better than Tiny-Small when it comes to being quiet or not crying out loud. I shuffle my feet too much, breathe too loudly, or can’t stop myself from speaking. I worry, excessively, about what my sneaking around means or who it might hurt, or if it might end in some sort of deportation. If you haven’t guessed yet, I am also really bad at telling lies. I can’t cope with the guilt, obviously.
Another time I snuck into Tiny-Small’s Halloween candy and ate some. I felt so guilty I replaced it with some other candy I knew she would like. It’s still sitting in a bag on the broken dishwasher because she has forgotten all about it. I should have just eaten it long ago.
I’ve had to cross “sneaking out” off of my life list. I’ve given up on being that kind of kid (or adult). I’m never running off to Canada with a young man on a motorcycle or to join the circus. It’s just not in me. Besides, I am having much more fun trying to sneak into things anyway. I am also having fun learning all about the grammar I missed in school. I mean, is it sneaked out or snuck out? I discovered both are used and there is substantial debate over it in the writing world. I just sneaked into Writers Digest to get some answers and then snuck back out again. Because, you know, that’s what kind of kid I am.
This is part of the Monday Memories series created by Quirky Chrissy. Check out First Time Mom and Dad because she came up with this weeks prompt about sneaking out, so she probably has some good stories to tell!
P.S. Thank you to Molly Field for telling me my Follow button (at the bottom right of the screen) was broken. Turns out I had the wrong plugin installed. I apologize for my technology issues and can confidently tell you to click it now (if you want to) because it works. I fixed it. Yes, I am taking a bow. I feel sort of amazing right now for getting that mess sorted out. Also, if you discover a problem with my blog don’t hesitate to let me know. I love to fix things!