my parents. They were my soul teachers on what was and what was not ethical. Then one brisk fall day my tiny right foot hit the bus steps and I was off to my first day of school. It was in this one isolated incident in wh Beginning from birth until I was about five years old the only source that my five-year ich my brain began to fog up from the entire worlds views on ethics. Basically in the fraction of a second that it took my foot to make contact with the rubber stuff on the bus steps, I became perpetually confused as to what was right and what was wrong. As I made my way down the aisle of the bus I found a seat with a very scruffy little kid (Danny McCormick), whom would soon become my partner in crime. This was my best bud back in the day when days lasted weeks and weeks lasted years. Now being an extremely shy child I was his lackey, he said jump and I responded how high? We were that children who always had to sit on the wall during recess for throwing dirt at little Billy or for teasing little Susie about her stupid pink bow. To this day the smell of Windex will send me straight back to the days of cleaning the chalkboard and the desks during recess. Also we were the well-published chalkboard names with the vivacious yellow check mark strategically placed directly following. The two of us could be found at any given time together and probably causing trouble. So my best bud until about fourth grade basically taught me to be a little punk. Which totally went against everything my parents had taught me. Here is where I need to flashback to fill you in on my parent's background and what they had taught me until I started attending school. My parents are the basic run of the mile middle class parents. They are not: drug addicts, alcoholics, quick-tempered, violent, or in any way emotionally scaring. To sum it up my parents are the Huxtable's without all the sappy make you want to vomit scenes. They had always grilled a sense of love everyone, treat others the...