When I was in fifth grade, I discovered that my second grade teacher lived around the corner from me. I loved this teacher, but, since I was most certainly a preteen hellion with a love for destruction, I thought it would be a good idea to lead the neighborhood kids in setting her garden ablaze.
So we did.
And of course I was the one who struck and threw the match. And of course when the firemen and cops inquired about who was responsible, these amazing friends led them to my door. By this time, I was in my room playing Donkey Kong, and attempted to play dumb when questioned by firefighters and cops.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
In addition to being a badass and potty mouth ("Shit" was a particularly big deal for me, then), I was also terrible liar.
My dad gave me his usual "I'm disappointed" look, seeing all through my act.
The cop concluded, "Well, since you were here the whole time, I guess I'll have to put all your friends in jail for lying on you."
In addition to being a badass, potty mouth and terrible liar, I was also a a punk bitch at the core, as well as a crier.
I broke down and confessed, apologizing profusely. My mother definitely slapped me in front of the police. My eyes said, "Help me!" Their eyes said, "Fuck no, kid."
I was forced to sit through a 53,000 hour-long fire safety course. I was also grounded for a month, during which time, I became an expert at Donkey Kong 1, 2, and 3.
That put and end to my brief stint as a pyromaniac. This was also the summer that I discovered the words, "fuck" and "motherfucker."
And its's been downhill since then...