Lesson learned

Growing up, I used to visit my Aunt Joy with relative frequency. It gave my mom a break (I understand now), but it was also fun for me. Although my aunt did not give birth to my cousin, Joie, until I was eight (and therefore we did not actually ever play together), I had friends my age to play with down the hall from my aunt's apartment: Judy and Jasmine.

Judy and Jasmine were sisters. They lived with their Grandma Jenny. Their mom, big Judy, was sometimes there, but she was what one might call a free spirit and had her own apartment a block away.

Anyway, one Sunday, after spending the night at Jasmine and Judy's apartment, they and I wrote our own church service and performed it for their mom (an actress) and grandma. I was the pastor. Our performance was lauded and applauded.

Later that day, my mom picked me up and asked if I went to mass (Sunday mass was a requirement both by my mom and my school.) I hesitated, but said yes. I thought, well, it wasn't in a church but we did say mass.

Mistake.

As we were preparing to leave, big Judy came down to give my mom a copy of the mass we had written and to exclaim over how creative we were and what a great job we did.

I died a little.

My mother's eyes were livid. Judy realized the air was crackling and stopped talking mid exclamation.

"You said you went to mass."

"Well, it was a mass..."

"Get in the room. Now. Joy, give me a belt."

My aunt and Judy's eyes were so sad on my behalf.

My aunt tried to calm my mother down.

I might mention that lying is number one on my mother (and now my) list of do not even think about doing to me.

That was the second and last time my mother ever beat me. (The first time I was four and throwing my toys out the window, trying to run away.)

A painful lesson, but given the rarity, it was taken to heart and has influenced my behavior ever since.