Well, so far, the feedback has been great! Truly, I have been overwhelmed by the enthusiasm for my little tale (350 pages, so I'm using the word 'little' somewhat tongue-in-cheek).
I've been surprised to hear that a few people, some of whom actually know me, have been shocked a bit by some of the more ribald stories I share. Shocked? Why? I've been giving this some thought and here's what I've come up with: I am generally a modest person, conservative by nature, so you don't really expect to find me in some of the predicaments I've found myself in. I actually think my conservative nature adds to the humor of these situations, but that's neither here nor there. In any event, it's got me thinking. I am beginning to wonder if I am inherently conservative or not. This is another nature vs. nurture thing.
Are you ready for a little pre-teen story? Here we go…
After a day and a half of camping I was dropped off, very early Sunday morning, at church for a confirmation rehearsal that I was unaware was even going to take place – why I was unaware escapes me now. My mother was horrified to see me in
Keeping to myself, I remained quiet while receiving our instructions. When it came time to actually run through the procedure, my full concentration was on keeping the gown from flapping open while I walked. After the rehearsal, we were promptly dismissed. Most of the parents came quickly to pick up their children; they had to get them home, bathed and dressed – ready to return a short time later to partake in this blessed religious ritual. Note, if you will, that I said 'most' parents. Most would imply that although many came, all did not. My mother was nowhere in sight.
I roamed the halls for what seemed an eternity, clenching my gown closed, wondering where she could be when Father Morello emerged and asked me what I was still doing there. After a hard swallow, I croaked out, "I'm just waiting for my mom." I don't know why, but he terrified me. Did he know that I was petrified to be speaking with him? Did he know that I had been unprepared for the rehearsal? Did he know that I was only in my underwear? "I'm sure she'll be here soon," I said through a meek smile. "I'll just go wait outside."
I paced outside a while longer wondering where my mother was. Fearful that Father Morello would see me still lurking around the church, I felt I had no other recourse but to walk home. I walked about two miles down a heavily traveled county road in my underwear and a flapping confirmation gown – think Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch, except in my case, I wasn't Marilyn Monroe, a sexy blonde in a beautiful dress, standing over an exhaust grate, on a movie set; No, I was a mortified, awkward, prepubescent trying to keep my gown from flying up over my head as vehicles whizzed by, in excess of 50 mph, in my hometown – in real life! This is the stuff nightmares are made of.
My mother, who had simply lost track of time, picked me up when I was halfway home. She and my sister found this all very amusing; I did not, however, and to this day, I attribute my considerable modesty, and conservative nature, back to this extremely embarrassing experience.
Nature vs. nurture? It's a coin toss. - M