One sunny day that I'm sure my parents had forced us outside to play (because it's a nice day and you need fresh air blah blah blah...I hate sun. Like sunshine. Hate skin cancer...no I don't have it...and there's a reason. Avoidance and SPF962) we were quietly hanging out in the den...so as not to be found out that we were in fact not outdoors.
Above the den, just up the stairs, was my parents' bedroom. There was a open wall with a railing, similar to a balcony that didn't jut out, where my parents' bed was stationed. My brother's room was to the right and connecting the 2 rooms was a bathroom. (I was a spoiled brat that had the master bedroom downstairs. I believe it's because my brother was little and he needed to be closer to my parents...but regardless I'm pretty spoiled.) At the bottom of the stairs was a stereo. This is where the neighbor and I had positioned ourselves.
It was the down-slope of NKOTB (New Kids on the Block for those not old enough to know who that is...the downslope being that one album that nobody knows any songs on) and it was very uncool for a boy to give two shits about them. He claimed to secretly have the newest tape...which I did not. So he was forced to bring the tape (I'm sure it was physical brute force that I used to get that tape into my possesion...) and let me listen to it. He pretended he never listened to it and that it was bought for him as a gift...to this day I'm sure he lied.
As I was singing about games, games, games, games, games, I noticed my parents' bed bouncing. Being the oldest, I took it upon myself to correct this problem before my brother was found out and punished for jumping on my parents' bed. I told neighbor boy to wait one and headed up the stairs with the sisterly nanny-nanny-boo-boo aggression that one gets when they're about to say "you're in trouble! I'm telling!".
Boy was a wrong about who was in trouble!!!!!!
It was not my brother jumping on the bed...and as I came running down the stairs yelling "EWWWWWWWWWW!!! RUN!!!! I THINK I'M IN TROUBLE!!!!" the neighbor boy darted out the door with me following closely behind. I don't remember stopping my Forest Gump-esque journey...but obviously I did or I wouldn't be typing this.
Needless to say when my running led me back home (we lived in the boonies, there was nowhere else to go...unless you liked bears and trees and rocks...and sun...which I don't.) I was given a speech on knocking on doors and not barging into people's rooms. Effective lesson...for sure.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Some Things Work Better On Paper
I'm a genius when it comes to bright ideas. And in theory they're good ideas. But somewhere down the line, I calculate wrong and end up in a rough spot...which generally ends in me getting hurt. Physically.
When I was small (I say 3. I was little and I had a brother by that point so 3 is a good assumption) I wanted to play outside. I'm not an outdoorsy person so when I "play" outside, it generally involves swings or wagons or something that doesn't require me to get dirty and/or sweaty. My parents were in the garage doing whatever it is parents do and there was a green bucket-esque object with handles and wheels. I was positive that if I could just get in, my mom would push me around and a good time will be had by all. What I didn't count on was the balance that 2 wheels does NOT have when you're climbing. And so the grass seeder fell...with me in it. And as I cry, what does my mother do? She runs in and gets the camera. (There are pictures!! Documentation of my first brilliant idea that I can recall.) Lesson: Grass seeders are not wagons.
When I was 8, my cousin (who is a giant. I'm positive he was 7 ft tall when we were in 2nd grade) and I decide that we are going to sword fight on the bed. Calculating my attack while trying to avoid being hit by a Gulliver with a plastic sword, I jump forward, thrust, and jump back to avoid his retaliation. Where did this plan fail? Where the bed ended. And so I fell...and he laughed...and I cried. Not only did I fall but I landed on the air vent in the floor and sliced a chunk out of my leg. Good times! Lesson: Giants and swords on beds don't mix.
I think one of the most brilliant plans I had as a child was the garage door. Unfortunately, it was much more beneficial for the boys in the neighborhood than it was entertaining to me. We had an automatic garage door and I had my brother hold the remote, grabbed the door, and up I went. What I didn't think of was the garage door going into the ceiling of the garage...and the outter handle going with it. So I hung from the garage door with my brother and the neighbor kids laughing, my hands stuck underneath the door, crying. Would they push the button to let me down? Nooooooooooo!!!! They just laughed and pointed and said "Great idea!!" My dad came out to see what was going on and vengeance was mine! Yeah...I told him it wasn't MY idea but that they were sneaky and waited til I had my hand on the door and opened it. He was so mad it never occured to him that garage doors do not move at the speed of light and it was entirely possible for me to let go prior to being sucked underneath the ceiling. Thank God for parental rage...otherwise my parents may have known what a genius I was. Lesson: Hold the inside handle.
When I was small (I say 3. I was little and I had a brother by that point so 3 is a good assumption) I wanted to play outside. I'm not an outdoorsy person so when I "play" outside, it generally involves swings or wagons or something that doesn't require me to get dirty and/or sweaty. My parents were in the garage doing whatever it is parents do and there was a green bucket-esque object with handles and wheels. I was positive that if I could just get in, my mom would push me around and a good time will be had by all. What I didn't count on was the balance that 2 wheels does NOT have when you're climbing. And so the grass seeder fell...with me in it. And as I cry, what does my mother do? She runs in and gets the camera. (There are pictures!! Documentation of my first brilliant idea that I can recall.) Lesson: Grass seeders are not wagons.
When I was 8, my cousin (who is a giant. I'm positive he was 7 ft tall when we were in 2nd grade) and I decide that we are going to sword fight on the bed. Calculating my attack while trying to avoid being hit by a Gulliver with a plastic sword, I jump forward, thrust, and jump back to avoid his retaliation. Where did this plan fail? Where the bed ended. And so I fell...and he laughed...and I cried. Not only did I fall but I landed on the air vent in the floor and sliced a chunk out of my leg. Good times! Lesson: Giants and swords on beds don't mix.
I think one of the most brilliant plans I had as a child was the garage door. Unfortunately, it was much more beneficial for the boys in the neighborhood than it was entertaining to me. We had an automatic garage door and I had my brother hold the remote, grabbed the door, and up I went. What I didn't think of was the garage door going into the ceiling of the garage...and the outter handle going with it. So I hung from the garage door with my brother and the neighbor kids laughing, my hands stuck underneath the door, crying. Would they push the button to let me down? Nooooooooooo!!!! They just laughed and pointed and said "Great idea!!" My dad came out to see what was going on and vengeance was mine! Yeah...I told him it wasn't MY idea but that they were sneaky and waited til I had my hand on the door and opened it. He was so mad it never occured to him that garage doors do not move at the speed of light and it was entirely possible for me to let go prior to being sucked underneath the ceiling. Thank God for parental rage...otherwise my parents may have known what a genius I was. Lesson: Hold the inside handle.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Takin It Back To The Old School
This whole thing started when I was five. I lived in Virginia Beach in a nice little neighborhood where there was always someone to play with. (This is what I remember...because 5 was a long ass time ago!) In this house is where I learned that you should not lick the freezer shelf (and that your mother will laugh hysterically as opposed to helping you figure out a way to remove your tongue and NOT leave a portion of it behind) as well as the age-old lesson of NOT washing your face with toothpaste (yes...I did that. And no...it wasn't a refreshing clean feeling).
I was in kindergarten and we walked to school everyday. We had half days and I rode the bus home...several times falling asleep, missing my stop, and my mother freaking out because the bus didn't drop me off. Everyday in Mrs. White's class, I sat beside Brett. And he was the cutest boy ever! He said his favorite color was pink because mine was pink. (I also had pink germs while the rest of the world had blue and refused to drink after anyone or share any food item, as their germs would mix with mine and turn them purple...I'm not sure why this was important to me. But it was.)
I discovered that he lived across the street from me after he was my unofficial love of my life for a while (I was 5 so it was probably a week or something). Lisa and I were walking to a yard sale that my mother had allowed me to go to and I thought I was a big girl because we weren't allowed to cross the street and go where my mother couldn't see us. As we found Brett, I remembered I left my money at the house and left Lisa with him to go get it. When I returned my whole little kindergarten world was destroyed! They were kissing! On the lips! Ewwwwwwwwwwww!
I didn't let them know I saw and I ran home and played on my swing set like an only child longing for a brother or sister (which I wasn't...because I had a brother. And he was mean!). Lisa came back later and I learned the bros before hoes rule...which isn't really how to put it when you lack a penis but you get my point. She was still my bestie (and said that his breath was smelly...must be those blue germs) and I told Brett he could no longer share my favorite color. Lisa's was purple anyway...they should share their purple germs and leave my pink ones alone...(for the record, I did not share drinks with Lisa anymore. We had pink germs...the only pink germs in the world! And she tainted them...)
I was in kindergarten and we walked to school everyday. We had half days and I rode the bus home...several times falling asleep, missing my stop, and my mother freaking out because the bus didn't drop me off. Everyday in Mrs. White's class, I sat beside Brett. And he was the cutest boy ever! He said his favorite color was pink because mine was pink. (I also had pink germs while the rest of the world had blue and refused to drink after anyone or share any food item, as their germs would mix with mine and turn them purple...I'm not sure why this was important to me. But it was.)
I discovered that he lived across the street from me after he was my unofficial love of my life for a while (I was 5 so it was probably a week or something). Lisa and I were walking to a yard sale that my mother had allowed me to go to and I thought I was a big girl because we weren't allowed to cross the street and go where my mother couldn't see us. As we found Brett, I remembered I left my money at the house and left Lisa with him to go get it. When I returned my whole little kindergarten world was destroyed! They were kissing! On the lips! Ewwwwwwwwwwww!
I didn't let them know I saw and I ran home and played on my swing set like an only child longing for a brother or sister (which I wasn't...because I had a brother. And he was mean!). Lisa came back later and I learned the bros before hoes rule...which isn't really how to put it when you lack a penis but you get my point. She was still my bestie (and said that his breath was smelly...must be those blue germs) and I told Brett he could no longer share my favorite color. Lisa's was purple anyway...they should share their purple germs and leave my pink ones alone...(for the record, I did not share drinks with Lisa anymore. We had pink germs...the only pink germs in the world! And she tainted them...)
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