Caught Red Handed

I started smoking when I was in my late teens. After the McDonalds restaurant I worked for was robbed, I smoked my first cigarette given to me by a friend to calm me down. I started to smoke regularly after the robbery, but I bummed cigarettes from my friends at work. Later, I bought my own cigarette pack, since I need to smoke after work. I kept my smoking a secret from my parents, since I knew they would be very upset about my picking up the habit. It worked for a few weeks until my Dad caught me.

My Dad was a heavy smoker in his early days. After he had a heart attack, the doctor gave him a choice, either stop smoking or die. My Dad stopped smoking a couple of years before I started smoking. He was very sensitive to the smoke and he can not stand the smell of cigarette after he quit. I tried to hide the smoking from my Dad most of all, since I knew he would be very angry and disappointed.

One day while I was at home and my class was over early, I came home to an empty house. I decided that I would sneak a quick puff of smoke before my parents came home. I knew my parents would be home later and the tell tale smell of the cigarette would be gone by then. I was about halfway finished when I heard a car in the driveway. I quickly put out my cigarette and checked from the window who was in the driveway. My heart sank when I saw my father coming towards the front door. I panicked and made a quick plan to tell my Dad my friends visited and they smoked inside the house, if he asked about the cigarette smell.

My Dad came inside and sniffed the air and asked who was smoking. Out of no where, I heard someone say, "I was the one smoking Dad." I blinked twice and look around who in heaven's name would say that to my Dad. I realized that I was the one who said those words. I was trembling, my knees knocking, knowing anytime now my Dad would about to read me the riot act. Since physical discipline was part of my growing up, I was already rubbing my butt anticipating a very painful lesson I was about to learn. My Dad looked at me intently, you can see the scowl on his face. He opened his mouth and said "Next time you smoke. Smoke outside." My jaw dropped and I could not believe my luck. I left for my friend's house before he changed his mind and punished me.

I guess, my Dad realized that I was an adult now and I would make my own decisions. I also thought at the time since he smoked before, he does not want to come across as a hypocrite by telling me to stop. I started smoking outside the house after the incident, but it took me years before I even smoked my first cigarette in front of my Dad. My Dad was very happy when I informed him in the year 2000 that I quit smoking.