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lessons learned

when i was very young, maybe three years old, my grandfather sent me to bed without dinner because i was looking over his shoulder while he was reading his mail. now, i don't remember a whole lot about being three, but i'm fairly certain i couldn't read terrible well--especially if the print was anything less than an inch tall and not accompanied by pictures. but, still, it was the principle of the matter; it's not polite to snoop.

i bring this up because, here at the office, i'm having a difficult time opening packages that are not addressed to me and i'm reminded of that childhood incident every single time i peek into a box or envelope. i hate it! unfortunately, it is part of my job and, as it turns out, a great majority of the documents and goods we receive are mine to file, put away or distribute anyway.

it's not a big deal, it's just interesting (to me).

this has also got me thinking about forms of child punishment. my grandfather didn't hit me. he probably didn't even yell at me. i don't know if my grandmother brought me dinner in my room, but i do remember her bringing me dessert. so, i certainly wasn't feeling the pangs of hunger. and, yet, this lesson sticks with me to this day.

have i snooped in my life? of course. i spent my youth spying on my brother, wondering what it was like to be older and to be of the other gender. and i spied on jo3 when i really should have just cut him and his lies loose. i also vaugely remember trying to find out how much my parents bought our house in miles ridge for, because i disagreed with their adamant assertion that it was none of my business. other than that, my snooping is
reserved for idle curiosity and boredom. there have been plenty of email, journal and instant messenger accounts to which i've had access that i've never even perused.

my parents never spanked or hit me either, but i can't seem to recall one lesson either of them ever tought me.

[an interesting aside: my parents never spanked me or my brother and they certainly never whipped us with a belt, however, jqr and i both distinctly remember one night where a leather belt was hung from the chandelier as a threat. my parents, on the other hand, recall no such ocassion.]

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