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originally posted by: incoserv
I'm the kid in this one. My father - from whom I'd been estranged for over 40 years at this point - told me this when I was almost 50.
I was maybe four years old. He was supposed to be watching me one afternoon but he was a bit of a ne'er-do-well so he wasn't paying attention. A cop car pulls up in the driveway, driven by on officer whom my dad knew. I was in the back seat with my tricycle.
The cop had seen me pedaling the trike down the street hell bent for leather. He recognized me and stopped, asked where I was going. "I'm going to Texas," I replied.
"What you gonna do in Texas?" he asks.
"Drink whiskey and rob banks," was my four-year-old reply.
Apparently the old man was raising me to follow his dreams .
I told my mother that story later and she said, "He''s a liar. That never happened! I never heard about it." I said, "Mama, if he was supposed to be watching and had let me escape down the street on my tricycle, do you really think he'd have told you?"