Yesterday afternoon I was all by myself. It was the last day of my two weeks vacation so I thought I’d spend it well. Cleaned up the garage and unpacked some removal boxes. Created space in the wardrobe room while in the mean time I was awaiting the furniture shop to deliver some wardrobe wall units. They were supposed to deliver after 13.00h but finally showed up at 19.30h.Being home alone and waiting in vain for the wall units to show up I got a little bit restless. I suddenly felt like doing something naughty, in fact the same feeling that I sometimes had as a kid when home alone..
I opened two boxes of cookies and flushed some away with milk that I drank out of the carton. *no one complained*, I started double bass drumming at maximum power and almost got myself a headache *no one complained*. While cleaning up I found some packages of fireworks so I decided to let some off. I got on the balcony and fired a small maroon. “Pfeeeeeeeeeeewwww BANG” Hmm, that didn’t do it either.I decided not to light the firecrackers because that could scare the fish under the ice. I even considered to order pizza and pretend not home but instantly felt guilty. I ended up reading my book, drinking another pot of tea.
It’s not that nobody seems to be willing anymore to catch me with cookie crumbs on my chin. I just have to face the truth: Gone is the mischief, I have become a tedious, sensible and boringly predictable ass.
2 comments:
I think it happens to all of us that manage to live through the foolishness of our younger days.
I have had the same thoughts myself. How does that sense of responsibility sneak up on you? It seems that only yesterday I was running around thowing eggs on Halloween (an American tradition), jamming up AC/DC, and going prowling until all hours of the morning. These days I am disgustingly responsible--a good employee, pay my bills, and get along with most people. What happened?
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