The Thinking Viking was maybe 16 or 17 at the time.  I was sitting there, in my bedroom, reading, and I recall I had just cleaned my room – a rare thing for me…still.  On the wall behind my bed I had also hung a STOP sign that I now cannot recall how I came to have.  It had been leaning against the wall for months, and I really didn’t think much about it.  I didn’t take it, but somehow, this bit of contraband signage wound up at my place. I vaguely recall a poker game?  So – rare clean room, and a good book, little redecorating.  Read, read, read….

So there I was, when Mom knocks on the door.  I open up, ready for her to be surprised that I actually had cleaned my room.

Nope.

I didn’t realize that, until I hung the sign on the wall, it was pretty much hidden from the doorway.  Mom hadn’t seen  my piece of road system infrastructure yet. But to me it was no longer novel.

She looked at me, raised an eyebrow.

Dramatic pause.

“If you are trying to get any action with the girls, you really should have stolen a “YIELD” sign.”

And she left. I facepalmed.  She was right.

Think about it, and good night.

MJ

PS -the STOP sign didn’t actually make the girls stop. OK so there were only a couple while I lived with Mom, on and off.  OK, four.  I wasn’t promiscuous but I wasn’t a saint either  :)  Miss you Mom.  Cancer sucks.

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