Some people talk about
how if they could do it all over again that they wouldn’t change a thing.
Usually its some stupid plumber or some guy that sells houses or some other
stupid thing that makes you want to heave up your breakfast every time you go
to work or something, and still they end up saying how they would do it all
over again and marry the same person, or have the same kids, or do the same
job, or live in the same town or use the same stupid toilet, for Pete’s sake.
Not me. I’d do it all
different… Stink, look who I’m talking to. You’d do things a lot different too
if you had half a chance.
Not that I didn’t have
fun, ‘cause I did. Stink! I had lots of fun along the way. All I mean is that
it just wasn’t worth it.
And my parents… O, God, did
I ever give them every reason to hate me. I don’t know… maybe in the end Dad
did end up hating me. I don’t know cause I wasn’t there.
I mean at the time they
hated what it was that I was into, that’s for stinking sure. But I pretended
like it was me they hated which made it a whole lot easier to make up excuses
on cutting them out of my life more and more. I’d be getting in trouble and I’d
say something like, “I know you hate me.” Then any “consequence” they put on me
would just end up being one more example of their hate.
Mom and Dad were always
talking about consequences. They’d say that every action earns you a reaction.
“If you take the trash out without being asked,” my dad would say. Then he’d
tell me of some magnificent result that would come my way for having a
lifestyle like that. But this sermon always came when I was guilty of not
taking the trash out, or when I had been caught in a lie, or some other stupid
thing. Then he would follow up with the “consequences” of the current event in
the life of Randall Woods. And there wasn’t a lot of come backs for stuff like
that, so I had to turn the table on them somehow.
I still remember the
first time I did that to Dad. I don’t ever remember what it was I was getting
in trouble for. Stink! What didn’t I get in trouble for? I did every stupid
thing you could think of. Anyhow, My dad was really pissed off at me. I knew I
was going to get nailed to the wall because there was no way out. I was trying
to find something that could deflect the wrath of Dad away from me. The idea of
accusing him of hating me kind of flashed in my head. I didn’t give it any real
thought like some master plan of defense or something stupid like that. I just
thought about it and then did it.
“You hate me!” I made
sure I had some volume behind it to match the severity of the accusation. And
wouldn’t you know it, it worked like a charm. Man! it was like I just sucker
punched him in the gut or something. He just looked at me blinking like he had
just been accused of murder or rape or some other stupid thing like that.
He spent the next hour,
or something like that, trying to tell me that he loved me and only wanted the
best for me and how there’s a difference between being frustrated with
someone’s action and hating someone. Dude, did I ever dodged the bullet that
time. I didn’t get grounded or punished or nothing like that.
Here’s the funny thing… I
decided that it was such a good trick that I started to pull it out all the
time. It didn’t get me out of trouble the next time, all it did was make Dad or
Mom flinch. Then they just knew I was trying to manipulate them and they would
say things like, “When you act like that, how can you blame us?” or “I’m glad
you see how bad your behavior is.” Even though I knew it wasn’t working all
that great, I still kept throwing it at them all the time.
I don’t know. If I
was being completely honest, I think it was really me that was hating me.
~~~~~~~~~~
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