Dad bought Spumoni ice cream which, as a child, I decided was torture.
That toy truck flew like a rocket when we put the electricity to it. And nearly killed the neighbor doing it.
Mother scarred me for life when she had me wear second-hand girls clothing and tried to convince me they were boys clothes.
I snuck away from a church picnic to slide down the spillway at the lake and nearly killed myself in the process.
Playing firefighter in the parsonage got too real when my plan went awry.
We launched a tire from the roof of the parsonage during a church ladies meeting. Someone thought a dead body had fallen.
I will confess to painting on the wall of the church, but will claim that I have a defense. My little sister talked me into it.
Preachers kids have the reputation of being ornery or trouble makers. They are on view for the world to see and expected to be angels. Sometimes they aren’t.