When did you know you were in big trouble?

When I was about four or five years old I loved to throw the cat. I guess I found something about the cat’s desperate swim through the air funny or fascinating. I was strictly forbidden from doing it.

I have an image burned into my memory from that time: I remember the cat crashing into a lamp just as my father rounded the corner, and feeling a sense of horror as my mind raced to find some excuse or explanation for what had just happened. Unfortunately I can’t remember what happened next, nor what punishment I received. I just remember knowing I was in big f*ing trouble.