That One Time I Was Homeless

When I lived in Houston, I tended to me quite an active little child.  As I grew up, however, this trait slowly, actually no, very quickly, ran as far away from me as possible.

Well anyways, as a little kid, I was extremely active, but as it happened, this particular day was very VERY hot.  Seeing as the normal temperature in Houston, Texas was typically around the same temperature as Hell, it was hard for any day to be particularly hotter than the next.  This day, however, seemed as though Hell was going through a heat wave...while wearing heavy winter jackets. 

So, I was lying on my bed, with all the fans blowing and trying to cool off. Totally content.  

My mother had been down stairs in the kitchen, and I guess, happened to look outside, only to notice that her daughter was not happily zig zagging around on her Razor Scooter as usual.

She hoofed it up the stairs

This comment was extremely hurtful to my little 10 year old self and probably provided some physiological damage.

But then I have a brilliant idea!

I would run away.  I didn't deserve this crap.

Yes.

Brilliant.

There was a park down the street from my house called Pumpkin Park.  It was called this because there was a large pumpkin carriage, but no one was allowed in this carriage anymore because a little boy had fallen out and died many years before.  

The park was amazing.  A little kids dream.  There were swings and tunnels and a HUGE climbing structure with fireman holes and poles and wobbly bridges.  

I made my way to the swings with a little backpack I had stuffed full of items that seemed completely necessary at the time: my blanket, a half-eaten pop tart, one of the Magic Treehouse books, and a quarter, in case I needed to buy more food. 

I sat there and swung about for around an hour, until I noticed that a lady and her daughter had been lurking and watching me for around half that time.  At first, I thought, they were waiting for the swing, and of course, I thought about how I was the homeless one, so they could deal.

But after a while, their gaze became very awkward for me, and I finally backed away from my swing to let the lady's somewhat chubby daughter take a turn.

But I was not free. The lady followed me.

That's when I went and sat on the grass, very afraid that I was going to be kidnapped by one of those freaky families that I saw on the TV when my parents weren't home.

But instead of kidnapping me, the lady walked up and produced twenty dollars.

The woman ACTUALLY thought I was homeless.  She told me to be careful and gave me the money. 

I was overjoyed!

I went home immediately to show my mother that not only was I obese... I was also rich.

And she could suck it.

To say the least, my mother was very confused.  But at that moment, it did not matter.  I knew what independence felt like. I had handled the harshness of the world. I had survived without my mother's nurturing hand, and I had gotten rich in less than 2 hours.

From then on, no matter what my mother said to me, I was going to be steal.  She could not hurt me.  I was a survivor. 

And I had won.