Ever since Facebook told me I was a bandit for copyright infringement (my first and only family ‘movie’ using a hit song for background music), I’ve reflected on……. the dark side! I mean really, I’ve been traumatized. I’m the YouTube queen and I now have this thing about watching a YouTube video and it’s worse when I want to share it! It makes me think that somebody in a black suit and shades is going to show up at the door and I’ll never be heard from again! Let’s see, where was I… back to the dark side. A mom’s purpose is to raise the kiddos to be responsible, respectable people that are socially acceptable within our societal guidelines. Normal, I’d say, if I really understood the definition of normal. However, fail. Epic fail!
Especially when I agreed to go along for the ride.
As any moral, upstanding parent will attest, you can’t blame kids for wrongdoing if you take part in the alleged incident. But you can wonder where and how he came up with such wonderful ideas of misadventures to partake in. My guess is it’s genetic, from the paternal side of course, which left me free and clear to partake in said activities freely. I knew for a fact I did not have a bandit mind in my body.
You see, down the Dirt Road a piece, on the Eastern Shore, is a pretty little golf course near the river. Nothing like that fresh, tangy smell of salt water. The course was nice and hilly, with green, green grass that makes you want to kick off your flip flops and feel the cool earth under your feet, or lay on the hill and roll down. A most perfect little spot, visited by many from around the world but, (darn, there’s always a but in there somewhere), not to be walked on except when golfing. Golfing is serious business!
We’d take these nightly excursions, kiddo and I and a dog named Cowboy, of riding around our blessedly quiet neighborhood in the golf cart, almost noiseless except for the gentle breeze blowing by our ears. Not talking, very peaceful and relaxing, with the sounds of night as company. Very nice, at least for me since I was the harried adult in the situation. Until we came to the gate. The open gate. The one by the golf course. The No-No Don’t You Do It gate.
“Turn around” I said. Guess how far that went, as we shot through the open gate at a racing speed of two miles per hour. Stopped. It was dark, very dark. Our eyes had to adjust, it was so dark. All the light was near the bungalows, which were farther away, closer to the river. The golf course, however, was in a hidey-hole, no light pollution and the moonlight could not shine through because the whispering pines were in the way.
“Turn around” I said. “Okay” and we shot off right into the green grass, in the pitch black, heading to the hills. Literally. Up and down and over and around we went, laughing as hard as we could. Actually, trying desperately hard not to just in case there was a watchman around that could hear us. Cowboy was having the time of his life but, then again, he always was along for whatever anybody was up to. Who in the world would be having a guilty conscience while having fun with the kiddo and Cowboy, two of us laughing our heads off and the other one barking? I should, but I didn’t. Not then anyway.
“Turn around” I said. We did. Our luck was going to run out. We could have stayed to play a lot longer but fun had to stop for the bandit-I-didn’t-want-to-be. We laughed all the way home; Cowboy barked. That was so much fun; can we do it again?
Mum was the word, for both of us. And we’re both very good at keeping mum stuff mum. I did hear, through the grapevine, that someone had taken a golfcart to the golf course and played around on it. Didn’t mess anything up but left only the evidence of their tracks. It could have been from the paternal parent himself mentioning that but I claimed no knowledge of said event. Ever.
Today, the gate remains closed and the golfcart bandits still remain on the dark side.