Cigarettes

"Hey kid, go get my cigarettes for me," my mom says to me, age 2 1/2.

As an adult, I think, would I have ever said this to my child? Hell no! Really? First, why get your kids involved in your nasty habits? Second, are you so lazy you can't get up and do it yourself. Third, why should a 2 1/2 year old know what a cigarette is!?! Okay, I must admit, I am not above asking my child to get something for me while I am being lazy... but otherwise, I just emphasize how disgusting cigarettes are on all levels.

Well, being the helpful 2 1/2 year old I was, I dutifully got my mom her cigarettes. I did not stop there, however.

"Mommy, can I do it for you?"

I was referring to the cigarettes. I wanted to help, I wanted to smoke it for her.

"You really want to?" What a response from a mom!

"Yes, Mommy, I want to do it for you."

Well, you can guess what happened. I smoked my first cigarette at 2 1/2 years old. My mom placed it in between my lips for me. Told me how to hold it with my fingers. I wanted to be just like her. She lit it for me while I gripped it with my baby lips. Once it was lit, I sucked in, just like my Mommy did.

I thought I would die. I coughed so hard. I turned all sorts of colors. My mom, well, she stood there and laughed and laughed. "Guess we need to work on your technique," she said.

I was so sad. I just wanted to be just like her and for her to be proud of me. I didn't know what I was doing. Instead, she laughed. I think this was the moment that defined my social anxiety. How can I ever do anything in front of people without worrying that I will get laughed at--even if I am trying my best to make them proud.

Fast forward twenty some odd years later, my mom still tells that story as if it is the most humorous story of all time. She has no regrets, she doesn't see anything wrong with allowing a small child to smoke, she just found it the most entertaining thing.

Lesson: As a parent, I think, "what would my mom do?" Then I do the opposite.