Young kids and old men have something in common. If they have an ingenious trick to pull off, they don’t get too concerned about the consequences.
One of my best stunts in grade school was with my buddy, Super Steve. We were playing football on the playground, and Super Steve kicked the ball onto the flat roof of the school. After the Big Ten Commandments, commandment number 11 at St. Cecilia’s was, “Thou shalt never climb up on the school roof.”
But a ladder was close at hand and (it appeared to us) no one was looking. As we started the forbidden climb, Monsignor Ryan came storming out of the rectory and demanded our descent.
He scolded us unmercifully, either using the Lord’s name in vain or reciting an unfamiliar prayer featuring the Big Guy. He tweaked our ears and slapped the backs of our heads. Monsignor Ryan proceeded to climb the ladder to retrieve our football.
Super Steve and I looked at each other. Then smiled. We removed the ladder from the side of the school and ran like hell.
At age 74, I’m always on watch for similar opportunities.