Deposits

Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.

~ Charles R. Swindle

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When we were kids, we weren't allowed to cross the street. I am not exaggeration when I tell you that Mom used to say if we did cross the street and tried to run away that, "A truck driver will pick you up and take you to California and cut you up and mail you home in a shoe box."

I know I've posted about that before. Every time I type it, I realize how messed up that is. And how effective. At least for me. Erik probably ignored it, and Kirk had totally different rules growing up so he probably just wasn't allowed to leave the state...  on school nights...  unless he left a note...

I'm not bitter about the inequitable treatment we got as children. I am just painfully aware of it.

Of course, it could be that I was far more precious to my parents than Kirk. Or maybe they just were aware of my love of semi trucks. 

It's so hard to understand parents sometimes.