You’ve been warned

I told him to never touch a vehicle’s lighter.  His bigger brother did too, but some people just have to learn the hard way.  This week, curiosity trumped all the warnings when my youngest son pulled out the truck’s lighter and touched it, burning his thumb quite badly.

“But it was so pretty,” my son said between sobs of pain.

What else could I say, “But I told you so.”  He had been warned.  And so have we.

There are thousands of warning signs around us.  Don’t smoke—besides cancer it makes most people look like a withered old prune when they’re only forty.  Don’t do drugs—kills brain cells—trust me, you’ll need those.  Don’t drink—again kills brain cells and your liver.  These are just a few items.  I could go on forever…

Yet, even with warnings like these, kids are choosing to partake.  I know there are pressures out there.  And I know they can make bad things look very, very pretty.  Don’t be fooled.  You are not one of the lucky few who won’t get burned.  Just as my little boy found out, the warning signs are meant for everyone.

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About janelleevans

I'm a sleep deprived mother of three. I create young adult novels from the voices in my head.
This entry was posted in Things I wish I would have known when I was 15.. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to You’ve been warned

  1. Charles Fuller says:

    This is the redheaded son is it not?
    I do hope that the damage to his thumb is not permanent.
    My Toyota Tacoma has no lighter. It just has two sockets for plugging in accessories, like a cell phone charger.
    I once went on a camping trip where both myself and the friend I went on the trip with forgot to bring any form of ignition. No matches, no lighter. Neither of us smoked. Not wanting to consume dinner raw, we had to get creative. His car did have a cigarette lighter.
    At first we had a difficult time of it, only being able to produce a smolder. Then I got even more creative, and broke open a shotgun shell. Gunpowder + lighter = A nice cheery fire.
    That your son was tempted by the beauty of the incandescent wire in the lighter reminds me of something that happened to my brother (Also a redhead.) when he was about five.
    He touched the bright and shiny chromed exhaust pipes of the neighbor’s motorcycle. This burned quite painfully three of his fingers.

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