I didn't mean to be disobedient or to have no respect for authority. My heart wasn't mean. I was just too playful for my own good. Like the time I stuffed the tiny rubber tires from Lego sets down my youngest brother's diaper, freaking my mom out because she thought her 10 month old was swallowing them. I knew that she went nuts when she found them in his poo, but I thought it was hilarious and kept it up for a long time. When I was sent to my room for bad behavior I would pretend that that's really where I wanted to be, which would frustrate my mom because she was trying to punish me. Then she's banish me to the bathroom where she was sure I wouldn't have any fun. There I would decorate with toothpaste or wallpaper the walls with toilet paper. I thought it was so funny. She tried to think of the most creative ways to discipline me, but I always found a way around it. She thought she could win in the end. She cursed me with ten daughters just like me. But even then I found a way around it. I'm still single.
This was a 5 minute writing exercise from the Writers Guild meeting last Thursday.
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