When we were growing up, my older sister was the black sheep. My mother wrote her term paper, a requirement for high school graduation, because my sister simply wasn't interested in it. What did interest her was "bad boys" like OFG's brother, sneaking out our bathroom window to be with them, and underage drinking. Nobody finds a bottle in your ice skates--not when you live in southern Arizona.
She became a pretty strict mother who's raised three lovely sons to adulthood, and is an excellent teacher, BTW.
Now I guess I'm the black sheep. A few years ago, I decided I cared much less what strangers thought of me than what I thought of me. So I often dress a little eccentrically, for someone of my advanced years, and allow my odd sense of humor out daily, often in public.
Maryn, ebony sheep