Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I use to hate my name...

   When I was a kid I hated my name... or at least my full name.  I had no problem with Pam or Pamela.  Jo was kind of cool, I was always a Tomboy. I didn't even mind my last name.  So whats the problem, you may say.
   The problem was the whole name together. It meant I was in trouble.  How much trouble depended on wether it was Pamela Jo or Pamela Jo H...
   The longer the name, the slower I came.  I knew I was going to get it.  I had to have time to find a good excuse ... or at least a way to switch the blame.  After all the proof was circumstantial.  There where no eyewitnesses, or at least no innocent eyewitnesses...I hoped.  Besides parents are old, maybe they would forget by the time you got there, right.  Wrong.
   The longer you took the madder they got.  And trial law has nothing to do with MOM law.  In the eyes of MOM law you were guilty until proven innocent.  The snitch was give a lesser punishment for being truthful.  Being the oldest, like I was, made it worse.  I can't tell you how many times I heard "Your older.  You should know better."  Dang how could you argue that one.  I did know better, I just did it anyway.  And in MOM law punishment was swift.  There was no appeal process.
   Yes when I was young I really hated my full name.  But, I know my Mom loved me and was only teaching me right from wrong.  She helped form my brothers, my sister and I into the people we are today.  And though she is no longer with us, she is still in my thoughts.  So if I even think about doing something I'm not suppose to I hear her voice saying quite clearly...Pamela Jo H...


                         I'm Sorry Mom....He did it... Help...anyone???