Wednesday, December 9, 2015

A lesson in parenting

When you write, tell a story.

I was sixteen when I read my first erotic literature. Actually, it was more than just erotic. I borrowed it from a friend of mine. That evening, I came home holding the book behind against my back and guilt on my face. My dad opened the door and saw right through me. He was a very good reporter and could sniff a story, or scandal, a mile away?

"What are you holding in your hand?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Let me see." He held out his hand.

I handed over the book and waited for the gentle reprimand I knew would never come. Dad went into the next room and came back in less than a minute and, sure enough, gave it back to me without saying a word.

He never mentioned it again. No "Look son, we need to talk" or any of that. He had enough faith in me, to trust me. It was a valuable lesson in parenting. One I have never forgotten.

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