Sex With a Teacher When I Was Eleven: Confessions From One of the Children of the Corn

For the record, the first clause of the title is only a portion of a true statement. The true statement should read as follows: "I did not have sex with a teacher when I was eleven."  I apologize if my title created any confusion or sensationalism. While a few years of my life came with their share of trauma, no teacher or any other legal adult has ever as much as hinted at having any desire to do anything in the proximity  of conjugation with me. On the other hand, since we're discussing confessions and since I just made a confession on Twitter to Judge Alex, I should probably make the same confession here: I threw eggs at passing cars when I was younger.

My cousins' cousins lived right on the edge of their small town, and across the road from their home was a cornfield. It was summer, and while the corn was not quite as high as the proverbial elephant's eye, it had grown tall enough to conceal a few kids who were ten and under. We raided my cousins' aunt's egg supply, then ventured across the street into the corn, waited for passing cars, then stepped to the very edge of the corn and threw. Even then Matthew, my brother, threw with far more force and accuracy than I did, but I managed to connect with my intended targets a few times. A few cars stopped, but finding even one child in a cornfield of that size was about like finding a grain of salt in a bowl of sugar. I was  dressed in green shorts and a green top, providing near-perfect camouflage. If anyone were to have been caught, it would not have been I.

I had forgotten all about my brief career in vandalism until I saw a "Judge Alex" case this week featuring two children who had been accused of scratching a car. The judge confessed to a nationwide audience that he had "done stupid things" when he was young, including throwing eggs at houses. He didn't specify how young he was when hr threw the eggs. For all I know, he may have been nineteen and already on the Coral Gables police force when he engaged in vandalism or malicious mischief or whatever one would care to call it. I, on the other hand,  was only nine. Furthermore, he threw at houses; I only threw at cars. The major problem with thrown eggs (we didn't throw at front windshields, mainly because none of use could throw that precisely) is that if they are not discovered soon after they are thrown, they are difficult-to-impossible to remove. Anyone who has an egg thrown at his or her car and who is unaware immediately that something hit his or her car is probably too impaired to be driving. The small quasi-juvenile delinquent group of which I was a part was actually providing a public service: we were, if unintentionally, holding a makeshift DUI/senility/visual acuity checkpoint. Had we thrown our eggs at houses, the same could not be said for our actions. nothing good comes of throwing eggs at houses. The point is that if what I did was wrong, what Judge Alex did was more wrong.

I have a few more transgressions to confess, but the nature of them is such that I need to wait before i am over eighteen, my law school education is entirely financed, and there's no remaining consequence that my parents can levy. Then I'll share.