What a great blog entry idea!
Okay, while you are all anxiously (okay, maybe not) awaiting my next installment of my recent European Adventures (check back tomorrow) I’ll leave you with a question, inspired by the lovely Sophie:
What’s the stupidest thing you did as a kid? I’m dying to know!
ps: Comment here, and then go and see my answer over at Sophie‘s blog. Say hi while you are there for me, because she’s needing a bit of cheering up!
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OMG. You were a *bad* kid, Sweetie. Yikes. Glad you made it out of the wood accident in one peice.
Heh. Um. I was a worse kid, though. My Dad (heck, my brother even) will be happy to share many horrific stories that I’ve definitely blocked from memory.
I once got myself crushed by 500 pounds of oak boards when I thought I could just push them out of the way. They told me not to play in the workshop, so of course I just *had* to. Broken bones and three months of crutches. Oof.
Oh, and pretending to drive a racecar, popping it into drive and rolling into traffic, i couldnt reach the brake.
Oh, and setting the carpet on fire when I napalmed my star wars figures with airplane glue… scared me to death. Somehow I covered it up and my parents never did learn about that one.
that’s a tough question… I did so many stupid things. I’ll have to think on that… lol… Here via michele’s comment game today!
Mucho apprecitaions for the linkage…and for the cheering.
Funny what we did as children, and the fact that we are still alive is testement to learning. I left my tale of one of those little tid-bits at Sophie’s also.
Oh that is SO easy to answer.
Right, so when I was 9 years old, I lost my fabulous collection of marbles. These marbles were very very dear to my nine year old self, and every single day I searched and searched with no results.
Then on Thanksgiving day of 1988, Mom was upstairs cutting the turkey, and I was in the basement (doing lord knows what), and lo and behold, what did I find? That’s right, my marbles! As any excited 9 year old would do, I literally raced up the stairs *screaming* at the top of my lungs “GUESS WHAT I FOUNNNNND!!!!!!!!”
This was not the best timing in the world you see. Because just as I let out my hellacious scream, Mom was about to cut another slice off the turkey with the electric knife. When I let out my Banshee scream, she jumped a mile, the knife slipped, and she cut halfway through her ring finger and had to be rushed to the emergency room.
You know, at the age of 27, I still never hear the end of that one…
Age: 4 or 5
Place: Our house in Brookswood. Specifically, the back yard.
Motivation: Playing alone, loosely supervised. ie, someone was within shouting distance, but not really paying attention to me.
My first experience with embarassment:
I was playing in the garden, and came across some mushrooms growing. Hey, I like mushrooms. So I ate one.
It was TERRIBLE, obviously, not being the type of mushrooms that you should eat. I spit them out immediately.
I was so embarassed by the mistake I’d made, I never told anyone. In retrospect? Um, stupid? But at the time, I just didn’t want anyone to know that I’d fucked up and eaten the wrong kind of mushroom.