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I Know What I’m Doing! by Helen Chappell

I don’t know what it is about the onset of hopping hormones, but when you’re somewhere between twelve and fourteen, you will perform a stupid human trick. As you jump off the barn roof with a homemade parachute, or slowly sink into the river on the maiden voyage of your Huckleberry Finn raft, there’s a split second when you realize this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe you decide to jump an ATV over a picnic table, or you decide the coolest thing in the world would be riding on the fender of a car going about 30 on a gravel road. You may have decided tying a rotten rope to a tree branch and

swinging, Tarzan-style, over a rocky New England ravine would really impress the chicks. Until the rope breaks and one of the girls who drags you up out of the boulders reminds you that the rope swing is supposed to go out over a body of water, not a granite quarry. It always seemed like a good idea at the time. Not necessarily a practical or well-planned idea, but an idea nonetheless. Poor impulse control is generally nature’s way of either teaching you to stop and think about what you’re doing, or thinning your stupidity out of the place where the gene pool meets the ce-ment [sic] pond. Because, gen-

I know what I’m doing! 9

September 2012 Tidewater Times  

September 2012 Tidewater Times

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