I published this in my memoir last year, but I thought it would be fun to bring it back to show what a cool cucumber I was at age six–NOT!

A Delinquent at Six

I had been walked to school a couple of times by my Mom. After that, I was expected to walk with other kids from the neighborhood heading to school. I did that for a while.

One day, I decided on a new plan. When I left the house, I circled around to the back where the door to our basement was located. I pulled the angled outer door up enough to crawl in, then opened the cellar door and went inside. There was gloomy, faded light coming in from the basement windows. It was very dim, but I made myself at home… just sat down there and day-dreamed for what seemed like ‘forever’. There really wasn’t anything to do down there.

The problem started when I started to get a little scared because there was no one down there with me and the house was quiet upstairs too. Plus, I didn’t know when I should try to go back out and pretend that I had been at school. What a shock, I couldn’t get the outside door open, nor the door at the top of the cellar stairs. So I just sat there on the top step crying until Mom heard me and came down and took me back into the house.

When Dad got home, I was ‘disciplined’ with Dad’s razor strap… I didn’t skip again, not even in high school, when the rest of the seniors did.

To be Continued

–LE