FATHER - I GET IT - I GOT IT - I FIGURED IT OUT

(dj33miles) #1

So, I purchased my 1st bike at age 13 with my hard-earn money. I bought a Western
Auto 3-Speed Flyer...it cost me around $49. I kept it like my dad kept his car. I would
ride that bike 20 miles from home...My rst taste of Independence.


I earned my stash selling cookies, candy, chips and snacks in middle school. I noticed
there was a void for junk foods. I lled it. Eating junk food was not me. So, this void was
ideal for me. I was taller than my peers, so, bullying wasn't a worry. The fact that I
didn't eat crap back then, prevented me from eating into my prots. A piece 'o cake!
Nice pun...


I started my inventory with my lunch money. I would purchase my goods before I got
to school. Man, could I have used a backpack back then... I never ate lunch in middle
nor high school, but I never lost a pound. School lunch was highly overrated.


My mom's breakfasts and dinners were belly-lling. Bacon...Nah. Sometimes mom
fried pork chops for breakfast! Once I saw I could survive lunch without issue, the
Snack Boom was on.


I reinvested my prots daily and sold to my more nancially endowed peers. At age 13,
with the help of number# 6, I open my 1st bank account. My father was impressed. My
father stressed work and everyone worked before we were legal to work in the eyes of
justice. LOL


Flashback; More Lesson Learned... My rst scary moment - I was about 8 yrs old and
beside myself.  I made the stupid error of bringing those same stolen toy soldiers
home. They were still in the package in my hand, as I walked through the front door. I
had stolen them from a department store, my pals and I often visited to lift items to
play with. Nothing over $2.


We were never caught, even though the lady behind the counter knew we had no
money. Maybe she remembered me from coming in to buy stocking for my teacher
during school hours. I was a teacher's pet and I illegally ran errands for her during
school hours. I never told anyone. Go gure that one. I actually had to go by my home,
cross a four-lane street during my escapades to that store. I can't remember what I got
out of the deal. Maybe a quarter. I never told anyone until a few years ago.


Anyway, my father eyed me as I entered our living room. He immediately recognized
that the brand new, packaged toys in my hands. He knew those trinkets didn't come by
way of his wallet.  

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