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Wednesday, March 30, 2011



Kay Springsteen is an Astraea Press author:

I don't know about my biggest lie, but I will confess to the lie I told most often. When I was a kid, I had a stuffed pink rabbit. I know I got it one Easter from "The Easter Bunny," but I don't recall actually getting him. He's just in my awareness as always having been there, and since I remember things back to when I was age two...well, let's just say he was always there. His name was Flopsy, I assume named by one of my parents and likely my mom, who used to read me Beatrix Potter stories. Now, Flopsy went everywhere with me. I dressed him in doll clothes, a new outfit every day. He was my constant companion. So it only made sense, when I did something wrong, for Flopsy to take the rap.

Who changed Dad's alarm clock? Flopsy did it. Who put fingerprints all over the picture window? Flopsy did it. Who was bouncing on Mom and Dad's bed? Flopsy did it. Who played in the water and soaked the floor in front of the sink? Flopsy did it. Who broke the screen door? Flopsy....yeah you get it. Well, Flopsy has since gone on to greener Easter grass, and my parents have both left this earth as well. So I think it's safe to admit....Flopsy didn't do all those things....I did. Flopsy...wherever you are in stuffed animal heaven, old friend, thanks for being such a great sport and never telling who really did all those bad things things you got blamed for.

Kay Springsteen

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One day I went into the room my twelve-year-old son shared with his eight-year-old brother and saw a Playboy centerfold taped on the wall. I almost passed out. My son, David, gave me a fish eye and when I asked him to take it down, he replied, "I can do what I want in my room".

I had visions of every fourth grade boy in the school begging my Stevie for a playdate so they could see this naked lady. Not to mention all the twelve-year-olds, soon to be David's best friends, coming around for a "viewing". My heart began to beat rapidly. After the boys became the most popular kids in school and boys were lined up outside our front door and down the block, the moms would become suspicious and want to know what's going on.

I had visions of 50 calls to children's services to report our underage porno parlor in David's bedroom. Newspaper headlines, TV cameras and foster care. My knees were growing weak. So I lied to my son. I told David the mothers of Stevie's friends would not allow their boys to come over and play if they knew about this busty naked lady on display on the wall. David didn't argue with me, he just took the picture down.

Only I knew the boys would NEVER tell their mothers about the picture! I breathed a sigh of relief David cared enough about his brother to put his stand for independence through Playboy on hold. This is a true story. If you have sons, be glad it's my story and not yours!

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kayspringsteen said...

You are SO creative! Since burning the house down wouldn't have been an option, I probably would have said I "accidentally" spilled something on the ceiling!

therese gilardi said...

it's always flopsy's fault ... i am laughing at the "playboy" debacle. because we spent most of my children's childhoods in france my kids have the opposite response - my son used to moan at the beach that there were far too many sunbathers who needed to cover up a bit.

Joselyn Vaughn said...

Loved the flopsy story. My kids are doing this. Puppy pushed the Little One to the floor. Cat threw all the toys out of the toy box. Do I have budding writers?

Jean said...

My son, David, just read this and says he still has the centerfold but expects that Miss April is going through menopause by now.

Anonymous said...

I love the idea of confessions. Of course, I have none to make as I have always been a good girl. (That can be a confession in and of itself!)