Explore the Stare

Explore the Stare

That stare. That steady, beady-eyed, stare. It’s a lethal, ancient, one-hitter quitter weapon only used when necessary. Mother’s have the ability maximize or minimize it’s effects on someone, at any given moment. It can only be described like a drill that pinches a little nerve which stuns my whole body in a state of sheer fright. It’s my mother’s way of never verbally saying that she always knows best. But, I say that it’s the evil side that only comes out when I acty out of line. My mom had always pointed me in the right direction and let me make my own independent choices. However, she had to let me grow up sooner or later. In my opinion, my brothers are going to just fine with the right guidance and freedom my mom gave me. Even though she never had to say much to me, I know I’m just what she wanted me to be. I feel that she has kept me on the right course from the first day I did something bad enough to get the famous stare.

Even though I don’t remember the actual first day of dicipline, I learned not to like it very much. I hate when I get in trouble. It’s the worst feeling ever, literally. That one gaze from a concerned mother could overpower any emotion I was ever feeling. There could have been a number of factors that lead up to a good scolding. Maybe I was yelling to loud, running in the house, pulling my neighbor into the pool with all of her clothes on, or spitting out my nasty egg salad. But ever since that first time I felt it’s wrath, I tried dodging it at every cost. I can only describe the look as looking into my eternal fate. I knew once I got it, the wrath was unleashed. The power of the stare always shocked me and ultimately only gave me one choice impulse. I could only imagine what was going to happen and if I was going to see my best friends house next week. It was surely a privileges always a surprise I never wanted to see.

In that short interim of childhood, I always had to have A‘s and B‘s, and always obey those P‘s and Q‘s, or else I got what I hated most. I always was an adventurous child who liked to push the limits inside and outside of home. Limit lines were crossed regularly and you can bet that I was sure to expect a scolding, groundation and/or a time out to my room. If I had done anything that was extremely bad, I usually got a spanking. What would you do if you told your mom you walked home from a downtown kindergarten class alone? Fortunately, I was never spanked until I was black and blue. In fact it was never that bad a all.

I think I was fortunate to have my mom teach me how to become a young man. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her. I had freedom whenever I wanted it. I was able to do whatever I wanted just as long as I didn’t cross