Good Times On Highway To Hell
Miss Trouble age six years old.
My brother was my best friend and I have hundreds of great memories. I laugh thinking how we came up with some of our adventures. It is liberating to look at the worst years of my life and find happiness. These memories made my life feel normal. Some are a chuckle, others a belly roll and most just things kids do. I was often the mastermind, no time to waste. I hope it will brighten your day. Maybe spark some memories of your own.
We put sheets and blankets over our double long clothesline making tepees to hide in. We could get a good thirty minutes of fun before having to look for real fun/trouble. Our dog Sandy got in on the action by pulling the tepees down.
While preparing my stepfather’s house for sale. My mother had finished moping the floor. With no thought on our part, we put pop tarts in our soda and they blew all over the newly mopped kitchen.
My brother was checking out new Christmas BB Gun and shot me in leg.
We always fought over who got to lick the cake icing bowl.
My Favorite We didn’t know why but our grandma was babysitting that day. Beyond bored, we start walking down the alley. My brother finds a bag of rotting potatoes, perfect for trouble making. Our neighbors had a pool and were not home, we threw potatoes in the pool, dog bowl, on house and back door. Little did we know our grandma was looking out the kitchen widow watching us. We came in the house like nothing new. We had to wait until neighbors got home, apologize for what we’ve done and clean up the mess. It was nasty to clean but it was worth it.
Popping Bubble Wrap was a huge treat, we would fight over who got the bigger piece, We would lay in front yard watching the stars popping our bubbles.
I would take Turtle Wax from the garage and mix in a little dirt to see how fast it would eat through a pie pan. Dixie cups melted quickly but a pie pans took longer. It was difficult to explain the stains on picnic table.
I never wore shoes unless to forced. My grandfather came over and I was my usual jumping around self. Looking at the flowers of the weeds in our yard. I enjoyed the simple things. Then I let out a scream, I stepped on a Bubble Bee. My grandfather said “Pud” you’ll be okay. I wandered off to find the bee. It was so pretty and I’d never seen that kind of bee. My grandfather called me “Pud” all my life, my guess old people term of endearment.
At 4-5 years old, I was across the street playing and my mother starts yelling there’s a tornado coming. I didn’t hear her so went to middle of street to see what was so important. A tornado is coming get in the house now. OK. My dad was at work so we gathered around the television. It wasn’t long before I had to go to bathroom. I was so scared, I would not go because the tornado man might get me. An important note: my Easy Bake Oven went with the wind.
This was great, my brother came from store with gum with a small poster in it. He asked if he could put it on the wall, NO! He snuck into her bedroom found a bobby pin, plugged it in electrical socket and caught the carpet in his bedroom on fire.
I matured early…..getting mouth washed out with soap for saying fuck at 4 years old.
We’re on tetter totter at grandparents, I was in the air and spotted a snake. I was screaming like crazy. Gramps came back with a hole but I would not get off the swing. I still hate snakes.
When our teeth were loose we put a string around it then slammed the door. One time it took three tries to get one out. The tooth fairy didn’t leave any extra money.
Gramps and I would have watermelon seed spitting contest, who could get seed over the picnic table.
One of the methods of discipline my grandparents used was go outside and get a switch. If you brought a wimpy one, it was back outside for another.
My grandparents would take us to Ponchos, we raised the flag for more until we exploded.
We had pampas grass, long razor blades, on each side on our driveway. We made a bike ramp, the goal jump over both pampas grass, the driveway and not get cut to sheds.
Singing to the radio with my dad driving 90 mile an hour, smoking a cigar with windows rolled up and constantly pushing buttons on radio while changing lanes.We didn’t worry about his driving it was the cheap cigars we complained about.
I’m blessed to have good memories of childhood.