A Life of Crime

My first memory is of setting out on an adventure on my tricycle (it was red). Mom said fine if I stayed on the sidewalk in front of the house. Naturally, I went further - all the way around the block. By the time Mom caught up to me, I was already home and sitting on the porch in front of the house grinning. Because I didn't get caught, Mom couldn't punish me. Which led to a life of crime. I blame Mom.