Sowing My Wild Oats

I was not an outwardly rebellious teenager. In fact, I think the most rebellious acts I ever committed were limited to listening to a few too many secular radio stations and watching the occasional movie that I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of.

Honestly, I think my good behavior had a lot more to do with my personality and “rule following” tendencies than it did with any inherent goodness.

But whatever the reason, I wasn’t really one for sneaking around behind my parent’s backs.

They didn’t want me at a party? I didn’t go.

No crawling out my window after they went to sleep or stuffing a body pillow under my blankets to make an Amy shaped dummy in my bed.

Which is why I find this next story somewhat humorous.

I mentioned that my Mom has been helping me out while my right hand is incapacitated and she’s got her own ideas about what I should and should not be doing while I’m in recovery.

She thinks I’m pushing it too hard; I think I she’s being overly cautious.

I’m just really not one to sit back and watch people do things for me. I like to be independent and I don’t mind challenging myself to find ways to work around my “disability”.

The other afternoon she was playing with Lily in the toy room and I was headed upstairs, intent on cleaning the bathroom though I didn’t dare articulate that to her. She called after me that maybe I should “just lay down and rest a little.” To which I responded with a non-commital, “Meh,” knowing fully well that I could clean easily with one hand, not to mention the fact that I’d go crazy if I “took it easy” any longer.

As I quietly grabbed my cleaning supplies from the closet and sprayed Windex on the mirror, I found myself thinking, “If my mom comes up here anytime soon, she’s going to smell this and she’ll know I’ve been cleaning!”

Sure enough, awhile later she came down the hallway, suspicion creasing her forehead, “Amy? Have you been…cleaning up here?”

Yep. It’s true. After 27 years I’m finally sowing my wild oats. Only instead of sneaking out of my bedroom to attend a party, I’m cleaning my house. Instead of smelling alcohol on my breath, it’s Windex on my bathroom mirror.

I’m a regular black sheep