Childhood antics that landed my brother and me in trouble. 

I have to start with my favorite story, you’ll get a better idea of who I am. At recess, in third grade, I told the teacher I HAD to go to the bathroom. No, go back and play. Back to teacher a few minutes later I HAVE TO GO! You’re just saying that go play. I begged the teacher to let me go a few minutes later, NO. I said okay and popped my pants right in front of her. And that ended the life of my favorite purple elephant bell bottom suit.

Gramps stopped to pick up bread leaving us in-car, I may have been seven. The car was a standard on the column, I was playing like Gramps driving and somehow got the car in neutral. We were rolling out onto a major street. I hopped out trying to get the car to stop, luckily a man stopped to help about the time Gramps rounded the corner. He was in shock, we didn’t get a switch.

My youngest brother was playing on the sidewalk in front of a girl’s house. They were laughing loudly and screaming. The family owned a Saint Bernard which was protective of the girl. The dog jumped the fence, grabbed my brother by the back slinging him side to side. My older brother grabbed a two-by-four, hitting the dog many times, it would not let go and it turned to bite his arm.

We got a new puppy, and the kids were so in love. So much in love, all four kids woke up in the night a fed the dog a piece of bologna. Made the dog so sick.

My girlfriend’s yard had a slope where we would lie down and throw apples at cars until a man got out a threatened us.

My stepfather really loved boating, the problem was he knew nothing about boats. Our speed boat couldn’t pull up a skier, our houseboat was so huge he had to call a tow truck to get out of the lake.

There was a small drainage ditch in the neighborhood where we would fish for crayfish. If we caught enough, we would fry them up, yummy. I hate to think of what was in the water.

M

Repost

Miss Trouble at 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. Looking at the worst years of my life and finding happiness is liberating. These memories made my life feel normal. Some are a chuckle, others a belly roll, and most are 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 a new Christmas BB Gun and shot me in the 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, and a dog bowl, on the house and back door. Little did we know our grandma was looking out the kitchen window watching us. We came into the house like nothing new. We had to wait until neighbors got home, apologize for what we’d 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 the 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 pie pans took longer. It was difficult to explain the stains on the picnic table.

I never wore shoes unless 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 is that it was an old people’s term of endearment.

At 4-5 years old, I was across the street playing and my mother started yelling there’s a tornado coming. I didn’t hear her so went to the middle of the 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 the 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 the 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 an electrical socket, and caught the carpet in his bedroom on fire.

I matured early…..getting my mouth washed out with soap for saying fuck at 4 years old.

We’re on a teeter-totter at our grandparent’s house, 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, tied it to the doorknob, and 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 a watermelon seed spitting contest, who could get seed over the picnic table.

One of the methods of discipline my grandparents used was to 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, and we raised the flag for more until we exploded.

We had pampas grass with long razor blades, on each side of our driveway. We made a bike ramp, the goal was to jump over both pampas grass, and the driveway and not get cut to shreds.

Singing to the radio with my dad driving 90 miles an hour, smoking a cigar with windows rolled up and constantly pushing buttons on the 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 my childhood.

XO  M

Report from 2015