Keeping Up With The Jones

Utah Savage advises me to write, write, write and to begin with early memories. As soon as I read her advice, I came upon a memory that had been carefully tucked away, waiting for this moment. My first assult offense. No deadly weapon.
I must have been about six or seven. There was a family that lived up on the corner, The Jones....no shit. They had five kids and Dad was an FBI agent. He seemed a very normal dad to me, but I knew he was secretly Elliot Ness. Our Moms were very good pals and so we kids often played together on some swing set or another.
And so, one day I was playing with the daughter, a few years younger than me. She was up high on the ladder leading to the slide in one of those frilly dresses we all had to wear, and was insulting my mother because she was so fat. "Na na na, your mom is fat". Mom was pregnant at the time (thus explaining "fat") and I felt this protective anger arise in me as I never had before. I asked this little shit to stop insulting my mother as she was with child, but apparently she had no idea what that meant and kept up her bullshit.
As my anger rose, I climbed a few steps up the ladder and punched her squarely in the face. WOW! I had never punched anyone before and it felt so good! She fell of the ladder and ran home, squeaking all the way. I was toast. Her Dad was an FBI dude after all. I was sure it was the slammer for me and went home to hide in my room, the closet to be specific.
Alas, my memory comes to a screeching full stop with the closet and I dont recall ever being punished. Perhaps because it was my first offense, I was let off with a warning. Or perhaps as in the movie, "A Christmas Story", my mom covered for me and my pop never found out. It is interesting to note that I still feel anger at this little girl whose name escapes me at the moment and I thank Utah Savage for bringing this memory back to me. I wonder, Utah Savage, is this a cause for more therapy???