When I was a young teen, sometimes my parents would allow me to stay home alone for a couple of hours while they went to town for groceries or to do other chores. I think I usually spent the time reading but I know I sometimes liked to explore. Every now and then I would go through the spice cabinet and taste each of them. It was so much fun to do something that I wouldn’t have done if Mom was there in the kitchen watching me. I didn’t mess anything up. Just a tiny taste of each spice.
I also remember once when my friend, Grace, spent the afternoon with me and my parents went out for a while. We went into their bedroom, took our shoes off, and jumped on their bed. I have no idea why we were drawn to do that or why we didn’t jump on my bed. Maybe it was because the ceiling in their room was higher than the one in my little upstairs bedroom. We treated their bed like a trampoline, long before I knew about trampolines. We jumped as high as we could and touched the ceiling. We laughed and bounced and had a great time. And, we thought they would never know that we’d done that. But, the next day my dad asked me, “How did those fingerprints get on the ceiling over our bed?” We never bounced on the bed again.
Apparently I never left fingerprints on the spices. I was never questioned about them!