Foiled

I have to tell on myself today because Curtis isn't the only one with a foil story.

When we went through pre-marital counseling, the counselor mentioned that I have a very strong sense of justice. I tend to see right and wrong in black and white. That may explain why my parents called me Mother Superior when I was a child. I hate to say it, because as a mom I'm not very fond of this kind of kid, but I was an awful tattle tale. My poor sister. Our family consisted of one maverick father, one teacher's pet mother, one teacher's pet first-born daughter, and one maverick baby daughter. That combo made for some dynamic family dynamics. Mom and I always wanted to correct Dad and Melissa and they always wanted to shock us and knock us down from our high horse. I'm not sure why I wrote that in past tense because it's largely still the way things are! We love each other deeply though.

When I was in elementary school - second grade, I think - I found out that the middle finger was bad. Mind you, I had no idea why it was bad. I only knew that if you showed it to someone, it was very, very bad. I was indignant. My righteous anger burned against the third digit on each of my hands. So before school, I went into the kitchen and found some Reynold's Wrap. Oh yes, I did. Ten minutes later, I got on the school bus with my middle fingers wrapped in foil. (Because that's inconspicuous.)

This is why it was important that I learn some very hard lessons about self-righteousness and grace in my teenage years. Mother Superior had to be foiled.