Ugh. Ready for story time?

When I was about 5 and my family was going to see some stupid action movie that my dad wanted to see. We stopped by the grocery store on the way there, everyone got candy, and we were on our way. In the parking lot my dad turned around and gave me a real serious speech about me being old enough to start doing things for the family. Today I was going to have to do something really bad so that the family could have something good. A lot of people get arrested doing it and since me and your mom have to work to pay for the house and food we can't risk it. But we promise if you get caught we'll get you out of jail before too long. You, my son, need to help us get this candy in.

At this point I was scared shitless. I was a really sweet kid that just wanted to make everyone happy. But I didn't want to go to jail! If I got caught my whole life would be ruined. My dad, of course sensing my great grief, promised me that I wouldn't get caught. He wouldn't let me get caught. He had my back and he knew I could do this. Just act cool. Pretend like you don't have anything in your pockets. Stay close to your mom and hide from the theater people.

I still remember the walk to buy the tickets. I remember the asphalt under my feet in the hot sun. I was doing this. I remember walking up the curb and standing directly behind my mom, blocking the view of the kiosk salesperson. Seconds seemed like hours. I was so scared but I know I can do this.

We start to walk into the building. My dad gives the tickets to the guy and he tears them up and says we can go in. I can't believe it. I'm so close. I can taste the Snickers I bought already. I can see the end of the tunnel. Relief is almost here.

"Hey, that kid has candy in his pocket! Get him!!!"

It took me about five seconds to realize what had happened. That's also the amount of time for my whole family and the theater employee to process the look of complete fuckedness on my face. I was done for. This was it. I guess scared shitless is just a phrase because if it wasn't I would have absolutely shit my pants. I didn't know if I should run or hide or fight.

That five seconds is when I realized it was my own dad that ratted me out. He set the bait, he weaved the tapestry, and he sat back and roared with laughter at the beautiful scene he had created.

I didn't go to jail that day. I still got to eat my Snickers inside the theater. This checks out.