No Regrets 1, Introduction (Part 1)

Introduction: What is a Regret? (part 1)
Regret.  It is not a word that young people often use. Why?  Because it takes awhile to get a good regret going.  Most of the time you don’t even realize that you are working on a regret until it gets big and ugly.
So, what is a regret?  I am glad you asked…because if you didn’t I was going to have to.  Then, I would have had to answer myself (which is the early signs of insanity).  So, thanks for saving from schizophrenia!  Anyway, regret—to express sorrow or a feeling of loss over a fault, act, disappointment or dissatisfaction.
I can still remember the first time I felt regret.  It was all my fault.  I believe I was about 6 or so.  For some odd reason, our church youth group was having a house of horror for a “safe Halloween alternative”—I’m sure it was an activity they regretted having.  (Besides, this obviously misses the meaning of the word “alternative.”)  The activity was being held at my grandmother’s house.  My uncle, my brother, my cousin, and I were all helpers in setting up her garage to be “spooky.”  We dipped yarn in egg whites to make them slimy and got a small portable organ to make eerie sounds.  The finale would be my uncle jumping out at the end and scaring the daylights out of the teens. What could be more fun?
After the teens had gone through, they asked if I wanted to go through to get the full effect with the lights off and all.  Now up until this point I did not know six-year-olds could be jerks, but I proved it that night.  I went through the course saying, “Ooooo, this is scary,” with as much sarcasm as I could muster.  Then, I got to the end and when my uncle jumped out, I stood deadpan and said, “Oh, hi, uncle Kevin.”  I don’t know what came over me.  I was otherwise a very saintly child (see, my sarcasm is still in tact).

Immediately, I regretted my behavior.  It was a horrible feeling, but I couldn’t undo my actions.  I couldn’t take them back.   I was left to just think about how much of a fool I had been.  I ran to the car and climbed in the back and cried, because that is was six-year-old brats do. (More to follow…)

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