Wednesday, September 24, 2008

My Favorite Auntie


Auntie “Jane” is my favorite Auntie. Of course that isn’t her real name and neither is her last name, Doe. She was and still is a tough cookie. But one day when she came over to our home when I was about four or five years of age, all of her tough exterior melted in the matter of a second. My father was always fascinated with guns. He would buy toy guns for me to play with (a no no for kids) and he would collect real guns for himself. Apparently I watched where he stashed a particular silver looking gun with a white handle. This is the same gun that I would watch my father threaten my mother with, putting it to her head over and over again, as she pleading with drenched eyes for him to stop. This made him feel powerful I guess. How pitiful but I digress. I must have thought this gun to be intriguing in some way. Maybe it was because it was so shiny. At any rate, my favorite Auntie “Jane” sat down on a little chair of mine, playfully teasing me as she normally would. This time though, I pushed a chair against my parent’s Chest of Drawers, climbed up to the top drawer and pulled out my father’s shiny silver gun. My aunt told me that, she didn’t see me coming. All she felt was the revolver against her temple and she froze literally. Her body became cold and stiff and she couldn’t even move her mouth to call my mom from the kitchen. She was afraid that any little movement on her part would trigger me to pull the trigger. When my mother finally came into the bedroom, she was completely and utterly mortified. What kind of scene that must have been. Can you imagine?! Seeing your toddler pointing a gun at your teenaged sister’s head? A toddler who thought it was just another toy like the ones daddy would usually buy her.

Unknowingly, my father was already teaching me a most horrific lesson; a lesson that would have ended up landing me in jail as a juvenile delinquent and probably a career criminal with a rap sheet starting at the age of four, if I didn’t have the proper guidance from my mother, her family and more importantly, God. My father was teaching me that if someone made me angry, shoot them. He didn’t have to sit me down and give me the rundown of the lesson plan. I simply learned from his example.

Children are Genius Sponges. They suck in everything around them at a remarkable rate and their memories rival that of computers. Therefore parents, do not think that your children don’t know your patterns. Their heightened awareness allows them to record and imitate your every move and everything that comes out of your mouth. And another thing, children see everything so please be as good as an example to your children as you can be. And please do not expose them to bad television or your bad behavior. We all get mad at times but let’s not give our children a front row seat to the horror show. Be that as it may, my mother thought quickly and grabbed the gun from my hand. It was loaded.

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