My momma said...

One of the things I love about being older, is having a good solid and open relationship with my parents. We get to talk about all sorts of things. Today was an occasion where that happened. After dinner, I asked my mother if she’d like to go for a walk. She said yes. So I grabbed my pipe and packed a bit of weed in it. Put on my shoes, and we left. A block or so away from home, I pulled the pipe out and my mom gave me the “mmhmm” face. She knew I wanted to smoke a bowl.
As we were walking, we had a conversation about me growing up and learning life lessons. One of the things we talked about was regrets, I told her I don’t have any, I’m happy with who I am now. That is a direct result of all my life choices. So, with that logic, you shouldn’t regret anything. Anyhow, my mother confided in me that my parents only regret about raising me, was that they sent me off to boarding school at an early age, grade 4 to be exact. My mom was concerned that I was too innocent and got influenced somehow and thus came to make bad choices later in life. I was quick to ease that concern by telling her that I was generally the instigator, the one with the ideas.

While at boarding school, I made a friend, named John. We were in grade 5 together at the time. We were best of friends, and total assholes to each other, as well as explored each other, as kids that age do. We were 10 years old, and liked sucking eachother off, what can I say?

Somewhere along the line, teachers caught wind of out shenanigans and decided it wasn’t a good idea. I got sent to a therapist to “cure” the cock sucking tendencies out of me. Needless to say, I still suck dick. On top of that, the police got involved. How? Who fucking knows? I was dragged down to the station, and put into an interview room. A officer with shoulder length red hair and a gray pant suit came into the room.
“It’s my birthday.” I said.
She left and came back with an apple juice box. Handed it to me and said, “Happy birthday.”
She then proceeded to ask questions, none of which I remember. My guess is to see if i committed a crime against humanity by touching another curious boy’s ding-dong.
I told my mother this story and she had no clue. No one at the school ever told her. It’s true, they don’t really have to tell the parent of a child in boarding school. This is because when your spawn is in the care of the school, the school is the legal guardian. Shitty, however true.
My mom and I had a good laugh.
I took a hit off of my pipe.
We walked home and kept sharing.
I’m grateful I can still do this with my mom and dad. Say what you want to say, when you want to say it. It may be your last chance.