tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post116472111447019005..comments2023-06-16T04:20:45.092-05:00Comments on BEHOLD MY BRILLIANCE *: Simpler Simple Green Questions?Penny Karma, aka the F-Bomb Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02920792594406507263noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164821002730529332006-11-29T11:23:00.000-06:002006-11-29T11:23:00.000-06:00If Blogger looses this reply one more time I’m gon...If Blogger looses this reply one more time I’m gonna sha-freek.<BR/><BR/>So… My most embarrassing childhood story happened when I was about 7 and my brothers were 6 and 5. We were waiting for my Dad to get home from work for dinner and we were STARVING! The kind of drop to the floor and die starving only kids between 5 and 7 can feel. <BR/><BR/>Mom was carving a roast beef and she would slice some off and give us a piece so we wouldn’t expire before Dad got home. Some how, between the starvation and having the edge taken off the hunger, I got the brilliant idea to try and land a slice of beef on the molding over the entry to the living room. I talked my brothers into playing this little game with me.<BR/><BR/>It didn’t take long for Mom to come into the living room to see what we were up to and she caught me mid toss. Let’s just say that au jus and white molding and walls aren’t really matchy. I don’t remember the punishment but I do remember a lot of yelling (Mom) and crying (Me).<BR/><BR/>To this day (almost 45 years later), if I come up with an idea that my brothers won’t go along with they say “It’s like throwing meat at the wall”. <BR/><BR/>I hope my tale has assured you that your kids are somewhere in the realm of normal. I turned out OK and haven’t tossed meat at anything since that day.buttercuphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15732438525546348805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164817406069797632006-11-29T10:23:00.000-06:002006-11-29T10:23:00.000-06:00I painted the walls with poop not once, but twice....I painted the walls with poop not once, but twice. I don't remember doing it, though, as I was a toddler.<BR/><BR/>I never got caught doing anything really bad, but when I was 18 I had a chin-length bob haircut, and I shaved my head from the tops of my ears down. I wore my hair down over it when at home/school/work, and pulled it up when I was out with my friends. After a month, I finally fessed up to my parents.<BR/><BR/>My sister Nancy did the dumbest kid thing ever: she stuck a metal belt buckle into an outlet. I have memories of her doing it, too, as I was with her. She was pretending it was a science experiment. It sure was. She's lucky to be alive.ZantiMissKnithttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18039047551905267768noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164814775088211752006-11-29T09:39:00.000-06:002006-11-29T09:39:00.000-06:00One summer when I was about 7, a friend of mine & ...One summer when I was about 7, a friend of mine & I decided the funnest place in the world, the most technical climbing challenge, like, EVER, was her mom's car. We scrambled all over that thing like a coupla squirrels. So not only did we leave little tennis-shoe scuffmarks all over the windshield, the hood, the trunk, the side door panel ledge, the mirror housings, and other heretofore-believed-impossible-for-feet-to-reach places... for some reason I had a rock in my pocket. Just a little quartz chunk the size of a knuckle. And in the game it was imperative that I hand her the rock. SO I did. Over the rear window. And she bobbled the handoff, rock fell (I swear) only like 3 feet, and hit the back window just a little tap. There was a pause long enough for us to look at each other, then the crackly spiderwebs blossomed in the safety glass at oh-shit speed. That was so bad I have blocked out all memory of the consequences - did my parents have to offer to help pay for the repair? Did I get grounded? I have no idea. I'm pretty sure my mom frogmarched me back over there after I had run home and she found me hiding. But the guilt has stayed with me forever. Does that reassure you?RuthlessNeverRuthiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02984600991411712083noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164805223194246922006-11-29T07:00:00.000-06:002006-11-29T07:00:00.000-06:00We used to sit under the freeway overpass along th...We used to sit under the freeway overpass along the train tracks and wait for the train hauling brand new cars. That was in the day when they were wide open. We sailed rocks and the spikes at them. When I see the completely enclosed car haulers I always think of that. There was the time we climbed on a train tanker car, and turned valves until a gas started coming out. The next day a photo was in the paper and we found out that they almost had to evacuate the area because it was ammonia chloride. Then there was the one summer we discovered the little league field did not secure the refreshment stand, the door was locked but not the wooden panels that dropped down over the counter. We were in candy heaven for a couple weeks. Oh the summer fun when we had to go to Dad's in a little small town outside of Benton Harbor, MI. <BR/>Glad you had a great trip, it is nice to have you back.Danhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05742792225646921896noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164769412966454832006-11-28T21:03:00.000-06:002006-11-28T21:03:00.000-06:00When I was little, I had long waist length hair an...When I was little, I had long waist length hair and bangs. My older sister had long waist length hair and no bangs. I idolized her. So, I used my dull craft scissors and cut my bangs off. Then, realizing how pissed my mother would be, I took other hair and cut it into bangs. Again with the craft scissors. My mother had a lot going on, and she kept our long hair in ponytails, only taking it down when she washed our hair. Since my mother had just washed my hair, she ended up not noticing the whole buzz cut bangs/new bangs thing until a few days later. I cannot remember another time she was quite so angry. For the ensuing months (years, decades) she told all of her friends what an idiot I was. Indeed, she recently told my stylist about it -- Let's just say it happened close to 3 decades ago and still with the "I remember when . . . ."<BR/><BR/>As for super dumb stories, my brother jumped off the roof because my cousin told him it was fun. Fortunately, when he jumped, he landed on said cousin so he wasn't hurt. On the otherhand, said cousin broke his arm.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164767708437726062006-11-28T20:35:00.000-06:002006-11-28T20:35:00.000-06:00David and I gave Allen an atomic wedgie Christmas ...David and I gave Allen an atomic wedgie Christmas morning while my parents were at church. That is bad enough, but then we through him outside nekkid and listened to him cry and beg to be let in. Boy, did we have the Christmas spirit or what?!?amyloviehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16417095117296883963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164767361691010132006-11-28T20:29:00.000-06:002006-11-28T20:29:00.000-06:00You mean besides thinking that "party hats" were t...You mean besides thinking that "party hats" were truly party hats for my 12th birthday? Hm, I'll have to think about that one for a while.<BR/><BR/>Tito's birthday is truly 12/29? No freaking way woman, that's the day me and the King of The Marmosets, er, I mean Dr. Mad Scientist got married. (You're on to me, the phd thing was just a ruse, he was actually promoted to King of my knitting simian underlings yesterday.)Bezziehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11359396377873745454noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17399290.post-1164764696295641382006-11-28T19:44:00.000-06:002006-11-28T19:44:00.000-06:00The inside out clutch seam is now officially a "de...The inside out clutch seam is now officially a "design feature"! Right? As for dumb things I di as a kid, there was the time I was playing with an elastic belt. it had a metal fastener on the end and I was pretending it was a slingshot. Well, the thing decided to slingshot alright. The one end (the one with the heavy metal buckle of course) slipped and whanged my sister on the head. Hard. Boy did I get it! Another story is this:I have a friend whose husband filled his brother's mouth with tobasco sauce.Carolhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07047009380102911866noreply@blogger.com