Is That Weird? – Shit I Did as a Kid
I know I look innocent. But underneath the red hair and camera-ready smile lurks the mind of a madwoman.
Do you ever think back to all the weird stuff you did as a kid and go, “How did my parents NOT sell me to the gypsies?”
I grew up watching Heidi, so that was a viable threat in my house. And believe me, my siblings sure tried!
I was a weird kid. I mean the complete opposite of the well-rounded, well-mannered adult you find here at the Happiness Project.
Just roll with it, ok guys? I’m trying to be well-rounded and well-mannered. Some of us just have to work harder than others.
Anyway, I was a weird kid. And for your amusement, I’ve compiled a list of examples. Feel free to chime in with a “I’ve done that too!” or “That’s the work of a completely sane person!” while reading.
Shit I Did as a Kid
1) One time I was mad at my mom for something I can’t remember so I stabbed a big hole in the dining room tablecloth with a letter opener.
This took me months of tooth fairy money to pay back. Can you imagine praying your teeth would fall out just so you could get debt free with your ma?
2) I really liked to cut the hair off my Barbie dolls, but I knew my mom would yell at me if she saw, so I hid the hair in her JC Penney’s catalog.
Ok, first, that was a stupid hiding place because she read that thing cover to cover. And second, hindsight is 20/20. Yes, I think opening up a shopping magazine only to have a bunch of hair fall in your lap is creepy as shit, but I was like six or seven so I just picked the largest catalog under the coffee table and shoved it in.
3) I was really into pen pals and wrote letters to our priest by dropping them in the collection basket at church.
See, I’ve redeemed myself a little from #2 haven’t I?
4) I set a small patch of our living room carpet on fire by testing if kleenex was flammable.
5) My favorite thing to be when playing “pretend” was an orphan.
Orphans and underdogs were my heroes, and most of them could talk to animals, so I thought it sounded pretty good.
6) I was scared to go into our basement alone because I thought E.T. lived there, and I didn’t like his “sausage fingers.”
Go google image search “E.T. phone home” and look at those phalanges. They’re creepy.
7) It’s quite possible one of my Cabbage Patch Dolls has mold growing inside it, but I refused to let my mother take it from me.
My baby Cabbage Patch, whose name was Adelle Patti, but I couldn’t pronounce Adelle at the time, so we always called her Patti developed some weird greenish grayish spots on her baby powder-scented head. I think my sister wanted us to send the doll in and see if they would “fix” her, but she was my favorite, and no one was getting near her.
8) I cut off the tip of my right index finger when I was three by sticking it in that thingy you use to hold screen doors open.
It’s still one of the only times my dad ever swore.
9) I really liked talking with different accents and voices, and I practiced them by reading out loud, alternating my voice with each page.
To be fair, I did this when I was home alone, so I wasn’t bothering anyone.
10) When I couldn’t sleep at night, I would close my eyes then lift my eyelids up. Then when I opened my eyes, the lids make a clicking noise.
One of my nieces does this now. My sister was telling me about how her daughter made these weird noises with her eyes, and I was like “You mean this?” And she was all “OMG! Yes, that’s disgusting.”
So tell me, is that weird?
You do these things too, don’t you?
Want more shit I did as a kid? Want more awkward and funny stories? Want more signs I have no shame?
Then vote for me as Funniest Blog in The Indie Chicks’ Badass Blog Awards! Polls are open through Friday, and every vote (you get one a day) counts!
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Guilty Pleasures Friday ~ Embarrassing My Kids by Julie Glover
I’m so pleased to welcome our first Guilty Pleasures Guest of the year! If you haven’t been following Julie Glover on her blog Threading the Labyrinth, you’re missing out! With posts on wordplay and word games, ROW80 motivations, and even High School memories, Julie is a fun and inspiring blogger! Just check out her bio!
As a city girl from the Lone Star State, Julie Glover owns both go-go boots and cowboy boots; has been to Broadway shows and rodeos; enjoys chateaubriand and rattlesnake sausage; and likes Led Zeppelin and Rascal Flatts. When she isn’t daydreaming about a personal chef or wrestling the family’s laundry, Julie pens mysteries and young adult fiction.
Thanks so much for kicking off our Guilty Pleasure Fridays, Julie! Can’t wait to hear what no good you’re up to! Take it away!
When I received word from Jess that I would get to write a guest post about my guilty pleasure, I struggled with the topic:
Um, okay, what’s my guilty pleasure? *tapping fingers on desk* Guilty pleasure, guilty pleasure… *tapping*
I can’t think of anything! I have NO guilty pleasures.
Am I doing nothing decadent?! What happened to the rebel I once was? Was I ever a rebel? Sheesh.
I’m not perfect. I’m plenty guilty. I swipe my son’s chocolate when he’s not looking and neglect housework so long that a HazMat team might simply throw up their hands. I can be selfish and annoying. But I’m not proud of that. It’s not pleasurable.
So what do I take pleasure in…that maybe I shouldn’t do quite so much?
Aha! Embarrassing my kids.
Which isn’t hard now that they are both teens.
I don’t want to cause permanent shame or public humiliation or spur my children to consider joining the circus instead because those people must draw less attention than their uncool mother. But hey, they embarrassed me like crazy when they were toddlers throwing fits in Walmart, Chuck E. Cheese, McDonald’s, you-name-it!
A sampling of the payback:
Mama in Pajamas. A couple of years ago, my sons kept missing the bus and asking me to drive them to school. Taking them there and returning home sucked about 30 minutes out of my day. That’s 30 minutes I could be cleaning, writing, painting my toenails. Unacceptable!
I explained that I would happily take them to school if they missed the bus. But I would wear whatever I happened to have on. Note that the rest of my family showers and leaves before I even start my daily grooming.
The first time my son missed the bus, I drove him to school in my jammies, robe, slippers and let him out in the car line.
The second time he missed, I parked the car. And walked him to the entrance—jammies, robe, slippers.
That evening, my husband suggested to me and said son that I give him a goodbye hug next time. After all, our son needed to know how much we love him.
He was never late again. *grin*
Mama Loves You. The threat that I might kiss a kid in public is enough to send either boy into pleas for mercy. Those little boys who once gave me big hugs and smackeroos when they were in preschool are now young men who prefer to save their lips for future girlfriends.
Yet I constantly try to give those big boys some much-needed PDA. And I snapped this pic, which could be used at any time to embarrass my son on Facebook.
Oh wait. I guess I already did it here. *grin*
Mama Has Sex. This is a shocker to all children everywhere, right?
If we ever want to clear the room, all my husband and I need to do is melt into one another’s arms and let our mouths comingle. Four rolled eyes and five seconds later, our kids are nowhere to be seen.
But our vocal flirtations really leave my kids blushing crimson and me tickled pink. For instance, the time during dinner when my husband alluded to his desire to see me shirtless left my sons speechless.
Guess they know now. Mama and Daddy didn’t just do it those two times. *grin*
I threaten to embarrass my kids more than I do. Since I have managed to embarrass my kids a time or two or twenty, they’re never quite certain when I might act. Keeping your kids on edge a little can be a good thing.
In case my sons are reading this post, I want to assure them that my karaoke act is ready at any time that the music piped through grocery store so moves me. I kept all of your naked baby pictures. And the school dance needs more chaperones, especially ones who can teach both the Chicken Dance and Gangnam Style.
Thanks again Julie for guest posting! Remind me not to get on your bad side, I fear the repercussions! I can just see it now, you walking into the DFW Writers Conference in your jammies, robe and slippers!
Got a guilty pleasure story to share? Can you top Julie’s embarrassing kid stories? Share with us!