When I was eleven I was in the seventh grade at St. Albans Junior High school and besides that I was at the height I am now which is 5'7". All of the older poplular girls had just gotten straight skirts and oh how I wanted one! But here I was stuck in full skirts or dresses and having to wear white socks with saddle oxfords. And I hated it every single day.
There was an older girl who lived up the street from me and we went to the same junior high school. She had a straight skirt. And so I got gutsy and asked my mom if she would buy me one: Her reply? "Absolutely not! You are too young for one!" I was heartsick and yet determined by hook or crook to get a straight skirt. Calling my grandmother on the phone didn't help either. She wouldn't go along with my plight but I thought she would go in with my conspiracy. No way and she probably knew that my mom would jump on her.
Days upon days went by and I was still lusting after the idea of having a straight skirt to wear and then I came upon a idea! I would go up the street to the older girl's house [we were about the same size] and see if she had an extra skirt I could wear. How was I supposed to know that this older girl was also devious?
I went up to her house and she brought out a straight skirt--it was brown and wool.
Yes, she would give it to me but she wanted a pair of my mom's high heels in exchange. That was my first hint of unforseen lurking trouble. Told her I'd think about it, went home and did the usual stuff and went to bed--still thinking about what she wanted and what I wanted.
The next day after I got home from school, I did it! I went to my mom's closet [both of my parents worked] and got out her brown alligator shoes. Those would work, I thought to myself disregarding any idea of how expensive those shoes were and in reality, I had no idea.
I rushed up the street with those shoes tucked under my blouse, knocked on the door and the girl handed me the skirt and grabbed my mom's shoes and promptly closed her door.
Ran like I had wings on my feet down to my house with such a thrill of securing my very first straight skirt that I think I was comatose. Later, I wish I had been.
Hid the skirt in my closet and when my parents got home, I acted like nothing had happened at all. But it's hard to conceal something that you know in your gut is wrong.
I was soon to find out for my mom, after setting her things down, went into the bedroom and was in her closet looking for a pair of house shoes to put on when I heard my name being screamed at the top of her lungs! "Sharon Lynn, where are my alligator shoes?" How was I supposed to know that she always inventoried everything everywhere?
With a look on my face like the cat that swallowed the canary, I confessed as to what I had done. Within minutes, she made me get the ill-gotten skirt out of my closet and she marched me up the street to the older girl's house.
By this time, the girl's parents were also home and a loud discussiion ensued between her mom and mine. But the skirt was given back and the shoes were handed to my mom and we walked back home and I felt like the world was going to end right there and then.
Grounded? Of course and punished. What I had done was in essence "stealing" and I hadn't gotten away with it either.
A couple of months passed by and one day when my parents got home from work, I noticed that my mom had a big box with her. You know what was in it--a straight skirt for me! And like the other girl's, it was brown and wool. I was in seventh heaven and looking back, must have worn that skirt at least twice a week to school.
How stupid it was to have traded something that was not mine and at that time cost over one hundred dollars for a five dollar skirt? Pretty stupid in retrospect.
The lesson was learned the hard way; oh but there were still more to come for the next year, I did something similar but got away with it. That's another story and again, it involves something I took of my mom's--but it wasn't shoes.
Sherry Hill
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