The other day I got a card in the mail from my father. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why, but then I remembered it was June. Time to commemorate my brief and not-quite-illustrious criminal career. My mother tells the story from her perspective. I can’t recall if I’ve ever posted the story from mine. Right now, I’m stuck on the fact that if this incident was twenty years ago, so was graduating from high school, the last place from which I ever graduated.
