Evil Little Deeds

When I was young I did a whole lot of mean, evil little deeds. When the little boys in the neighborhood were mean to the little girls that were my friends, I always sought retribution. Granted, it was not a very nice thing to do, always having to get even, but it sure was the fun thing. Once I painted a little neighbor boys brand new jeans. The little boy came over to my house while my sister and I were painting our dog house in the back yard. Well I am not sure how I got him to let me do it, but his mother sure was mad. She called my mother and let her know just what she thought about what I did to her son’s brand new jeans. And my mother was none too happy as she drug my butt across the road and down the street, to shame facedly apologize for what I had done. And my mother was especially mad with me because she had to pay for the pants that I had ruined. I do not remember just how long I was doing a mountain load of extra chores to make up for that one. But I know that by the time I was done I had learned the most valuable of lessons. I learned from this that if I am going to be doing evil deeds, it was best to make sure the money to pay for what I had done, did not come from my parent’s pockets.  Maybe not the best of lessons, but it was an ample one to make me revise the evil just a bit in the future; for my reign of terror did not cease.