Head Shrinker and no pics...

I was looking around for the little cord that plugs my camera into the computer. It seems that I have misplaced it, so I can't post the pics I wanted to post tonight. Hopefully I'll find it tomorrow morning.

I was thinking back to my days in Jr High and early High School. There are some crazy times there. To completely get this story, you have to have an idea of what my family was like, especially my mother. I'll try to give a little bit of a picture.

My mother was always a stay at home mom. We were pretty much her life. Most mornings, she cooked a hot breakfast before we went to school. All of our clothes were ironed. ALL of them. Well, the underwear wasn't, but the rest of them were. I used to HATE that. I remember in elementary school having jeans so creased, the crease was a faded line down the middle of each leg. My mother believed that we were a reflection of her, and by God, she was going to look better than any other mother in town. That's where some of the problems started.

We wore nice clothes. Shirts were tucked in, a belt was always worn, socks matched, and shoes were never scuffed up. Well, around 7th or 8th grade, the styles changed a little. Guys didn't always wear shirts tucked in. If you did tuck the shirt in, you sure as hell didn't wear a belt. Belts were for dress slacks, otherwise you were a DORK. Socks were ok with tennis shoes, but the style was topsiders with no socks. Sperry topsiders. Oh, and you tight rolled your pants.

The "style" horrified my mother. It was so bad that she was convinced I was rebelling. Keep in mind that we were the typical Southern Baptist family in the South. No liquor in the house, and in church Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night. I also went to youth group one night a week. Most of my friends were friends that went to church with me. Our church was pretty large. It was big enough to have a counselor on staff. In late Jr High, my parents and I had a few sessions with this counselor to work on my "rebellion" I never saw the point in any of this. To me it was a huge waste of time, and if anything, it caused more rebellion (not that there was any to begin with). Typically, the sessions involved my parents meeting separately with the counselor and them me meeting with him alone. I never knew what was said in their session - until just a couple of years ago. My Dad finally told me, and it was hilarious. It was obvious that he went along with it to pacify my mom.

According to Dad, the counselor started by asking what we were there for. My mom told him Everything. She told him it was because I was being rebellious. When he asked for more, she told him I wouldn't wear a belt, tuck my shirt in, or wear socks. She was tired of me always looking so slovenly. Yes, that's the word she used. Keep in mind my clothes were always clean and immaculately pressed and my hair was regulation short, above the ears and collar. The counselor asked if I was skipping school. Nope. Does he hang out with the wrong crowd? Nope, all friends are friends from church (we were all VERY straight-laced). Any drinking? Nope. Any smoking? Nope. Any drugs? Nope. You see where this is going...

The counselor happened to have 3 sons, at least one of which had some or all of the problems mentioned above. He would probably kill for a kid like me. Well, apparently that guy didn't straighten me out, and I saw at least one more shrink during that time.

I guess it must have done some good. I still don't drink much (of course I blame that clock incident more than anything else), have never smoked (I always thought it was nasty), never tried drugs of any sort (never any desire), and most of my friends today are either from church or they are the ones I had back in the youth group days (Katie and Tommy that I've mentioned here several times). On second thought, it was a waste of time and money. Perhaps my parents being good role models was what caused me to turn out ok, despite the lack of socks or a belt.

What was the picture about? Well, I still enjoy giving my mother hell. She hates facial hair as well as the previous mentioned wardrobe issues. The last time I saw her, I was wearing my shirt untucked (straight-hem button down, neatly pressed), no socks (sandals), and a mustache / goatee (neatly trimmed). I also got my previously mentioned SHORT hairdo trimmed up. She was NOT impressed.

Man, it sure is fun when you can jack with the parents. And, I guess it's a compliment to them that the worst thing you do is show up with facial hair and a shirt untucked.