Thursday, April 19, 2012
When I was about 10 years old I learned that "the truth hurts" has two meanings. My Dad had very strong feelings about honesty and I wanted to be like him so it became a habit. I got into a number of scrapes and accidents but I always told the truth about how it happened and I was rewarded with my parents trust. Since my judgement was less than stellar I did get lovingly punished but it didn't stop me from telling the truth.
My walk to the bus stop was about a half mile up our one lane dirt road to the highway and then we walked about 50 yards along the highway to wait in the farmers front yard for the bus. That 50 yard walk was because my Mom had told me not to cut across the farmers field next to our road. Well, one winter morning me and Bob and Johnny were running a little late. I decided that it would be safe to walk across the frozen field because we weren't bothering any crops. At first they were hesitant to cross but I walked out to show them that it was frozen and we could cross so they followed. I was the youngest of the three but they followed. Did I say we were smart? We had a lot to learn and our lesson was just beginning.
We later learned that the field was shaded around the edges so that part froze hard overnight. The area where the sun shone on it all day held more warmth and, although it froze on the top and looked safe to walk on, it would not bear our weight. Since I was the lightest I was the last one to break through the surface into six inches of MUD. As we plodded through to the other side we figured out that if we could get to school we could clean up before we got home. The bus driver had other ideas. We stopped at another Elementary School to drop off those kids but since we were sitting on the step at the door we got off first. Then Mrs. Bernard, the toughest principal in St. Louis County, took charge of us and led us to the boiler room where we had to wait for our execution. You talk about three worried boys - that was us.
My Mom showed up to drive us home and once there Bob and Johnny walked to their houses as we said our last farewell. My Mom sent me to the basement and went to get Dad's belt. Mom came down, asked me who's idea it was, I told her, and I received my punishment. It was sufficient to keep me off that field to this day but nothing like what I had imagined.
I don't know how many things we have to do to make a lifestyle change but one of those is to be honest with ourselves. We have to log everything on our nutrition tracker and when we transgress we must hold ourselves responsible. I'm starting to understand how important all the numbers are because we're not just losing weight - we're trying to eat healthier. Now I pay attention to the fat and the good stuff. Fortunately for me I have all my SparkMoms to remind me to stay out of the mud. Thanks Moms.