For the past few days, I've been going through my old photos. I've had a nagging feeling for a few years now that I need to get all of them scanned. They're all turning colors and just plain getting old. So, as part of my organization process, I'm finally doing it.
It's so great to look at the old pictures! The kids love looking through our albums. Cooper gets super excited and yells, "That's Daddy!" and "That's you, Mommy!"
I found this card in my photo box and was reminded of how fortunate I was in high school to have the most wonderful friends in the world.
I think I was grounded for... ditching. Yup. Don't tell my kids! Once again I'm reminded that: #1- I definitely married "up," and #2- I married my polar opposite. That's why we get along so well, I guess. From First Grade on, Brent NEVER missed a day of school. He didn't stay home sick. He didn't ditch. Once in Dental School, he came home early with the flu. That's it. I, on the other hand, always longed to be free; to be anywhere other than where I was "supposed" to be. I missed school whenever I got the chance!
So one day my junior year of high school, while my parents were out of town, a group of us went to my house when we were supposed to be in school. (We had an open campus, and had cars). I think that we watched a movie. And got caught. By the sister missionaries! They lived with us at the time, and for some reason I didn't even consider the possibility of them catching us. I don't remember who was there, but my guess is April, Stacey, Sonja and Alan J.
At least we weren't watching an R-rated movie! That's where I was so fortunate: because even though we did things that we weren't supposed to (ditching, toilet papering, ghosting, etc.), we didn't do "bad" things. We went to church dances, the temple, seminary, efy and firesides. We talked about the scriptures and our testimonies. We went heart-attacking - ALOT. We spent the night at April's house because she didn't have a curfew (I had a 12pm one), but we didn't do bad things.
I am so grateful.
No comments:
Post a Comment