your comments yesterday were brilliant. you weren't messy...you were naughty!
i love that about you.
my sister called in the afternoon, and seriously couldn't say a word for a few seconds. she was laughing too hard at this little gem from lkm:
...then there was the time it seemed like a good idea to pop up the floor tiles in the study with a toilet plunger. sprinkle sugar underneath, and replace the tiles. why? because it made such a cool crunchy sound while 'sailing the ocean blue' in laundry baskets and cardboard boxes.
long forgotten and well on the way to other messes by the time mom and dad were scratching their heads trying to figure out the source of the ant infestation.
whoops.
i swear it was the whoops with a period that sent us both over the edge.
all of that reminded me of this friend i once found, who was honestly the most proper number-loving, old-school business suit woman i'd ever met. i liked her anyway.
she worried to no end that her daughter would end up just like her. i nodded dumbly and threw in a worried, scrunched-up forehead "conservative?" uhhh. no, karey. but thanks for that.
apparently, she went through a horrid stage when she was about eight or nine. like, a felony stage.
she had a bunch of genius pranks stuffed into her back pocket, but my favorite involved her neighbor's historic southern manse with one of those fancy brass mail slots in the front door. original to the house. if you peeked in it, you could see the cherry wood floors they'd lovingly restored. original to the house.
my friend thought it'd be hilarious if she ran the garden hose through that little secret slot. think about it, will you? the owners come home after work, walk in their front door, and slip on a tiny puddle in their foyer. falling flat on their fancy little bums. original to the house.
her plan went awry. horribly. because she forgot about the hose until hours later. it was the sirens that reminded her.
i could write a book about uncle sugar's childhood. that boy's pranks were brutal, and my favorite moments still are when he gets that devil of a spark in his eyes. i can see the little monkey he once was. love that.
one of his best tricks was when he left a note at the bank back when he was in grade school.
it read, in part, HELP. something about being held captive by a crazy woman, which was probably true. that boy was perpetually grounded.
long story as short as it can be...the police came. uncle sugar disappeared. and his mother, i'm told, convinced the officers that, with five children all of varying versions of killer-naughty, she was the only person in that house being held against her will.
they took one look around. and left.
more than a little inspired by jan welters' portraits, as found first by stash studios. my hair appointment isn't until sunday, so somebody might be printing out a few of these bad boys, yes? yes. and thanks for yesterday's comments. they made me laugh and laugh and laugh. if you're in the mood, more please...
11 comments:
took your post today to remind me, but i remember a friend very, very nonchalantly (a very accomplished friend, i might add), just casually dropping in conversation that she had stolen a car at 16. i think the worst i ever did was steal a peanut from safeway. well, the worst i ever did as a kid, anyway.
your stories, karey...there's nothing like a really hearty dose of laughter in the morning. i have to say, i think the naughtiest thing i've done was prank a friend of mine. she was over the house and i got bored. so i found this fake thumb with a gash in it that you put over your real thumb. i got some ketchup, squirted that on, then ran in the room, holding my hand, ketchup oozing out of my fingers, like i had cut myself. she started to panic and look for a way to bandage it. that's when i pulled the thumb off. she screamed and ran, i broke out into a fit of laughter that left me in tears. it was awesome.
your conservative comment made me laugh out loud!
growing up my dad was a farmer and would often be gone in the summer before the sun was up and would not return till long after dark. so he was tired and would sometimes nap in his recliner. while he was asleep my sister and i would play Beauty Shop on him. fix his hair (clip bows in it and brush it) and paint his toenails with pink polish. he would wake up and realize what we had done, laugh and go back to sleep. all while my mom stood there taking pictures of the entire debacle, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.
it doesn't surprise me that the man i married is so much like my dad. last month my sister was over for supper and mr. darling fell asleep on the couch. while he was sleeping we painted his toenails. we were nice so chose a lovely shade of navy blue. he woke up and was horrified at what we had done! he immediately called my dad and my dad promptly commiserated with him and shared the Beauty Parlor story. poor mr. darling. he was a good sport about it, finally laughed once we agreed to show him where we hid the nail polish remover.
When my girlie was four we found a cat. The cat is mostly white with dark grey patches, but B was four and everything had to be pink so the cat was named Pinky. A few months later B and a friend put together in their little heads that the cat was named Pinky and the shampoo was pink and so they should wash Pinky the cat with the pink shampoo. They used the whole bottle... and it was new. All of the cat's white parts were pink and there was much howling...from the cat, from the girls, from me when I realised that I had to rinse the shampoo out. It took a long time, but once I had Pinky's claws firmly embedded into my arm she couldn't get away. Good times. I still have the scars.
These are all so great! Oh man....the hose incident...wow. I forgot one of my main messy incidents. When I was around 7, I was visiting my great aunt, and hot on the trail of a criminal! (did I mention I was pretending to be a detective?) So, having found out where the criminal was going to be sleeping that night(which incidentally was also my poor unsuspecting Aunt's bed) I put "poisoned powder" (read: garlic powder) all in between the top sheet and the bottom sheet......yeah. Forgot all about it when I moved on to a different game. Until.....10 years later! When my sweet Aunt mentioned it, thinking I was hating her at that moment and that's why I did it!!! Aw...I felt SO bad. I explained it all to her but, somehow I am not sure she ever really recovered. *sigh*
xoxo
Melis
my mom has a history of speeding tickets. woman has a lead foot ( which she absolutely gave to me). every time she got a new speeding ticket my dad would go bananas. when i was around 7 years old, my dad and i were in the car driving home from saturday errands. right before we made it to the driveway i looked at my dad and said "oh man THIS road" and he looked at me like "what about THIS road lauren"...i said "mom didn't tell you? oh nevermind" as devilish as a child can be.
my dad got all tense, his face got very stern and said "lauren tell me what happened"
"well the other day the nice policeman stopped mommy because she was driving too fast"
my dad didn't speak to my mom for THREE WEEKS. THREE!!! he kept waiting for her to tell him and of course, she never did, because, it never happened! he was so furious. the one thing my parents always told me growing up was that "mommy and daddy don't hold secrets from each other"...we could never tell mom something and say "don't tell dad" because she could never keep her mouth shut. (that's what grandma's are good for;)
my mother spent three "of the worst weeks of her life" wondering why my dad wouldn't speak to her.
needless to say i got in big trouble. big big trouble.
love that story on uncle sugar's mom. hilarious
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my cousins daughter had a whoops. practicing her 911 dialing skills while my cousin took her shower.
fire department showed up at the door, and my cousin with a towel wrapped around her head asking what? The little girl said whoops! and ran straight to her bedroom.
the police had to come in just to check and to also warn it would be a sizable fee next time whoops dialed
Sadly, I can't recall being 'bad' as a child. Or at least, I wasn't a prankster. I believe the crumb will not disappoint me with lovely pranks that will make me scratch my head and say, "how did you think of that?" By no means was I an angel, but my behaviour was acted out in other means as to the boys I dated, the curfews I broke and the cars I crashed.
my brother is five years younger than me, and growing up we had a, um, tumultuous relationship due to my penchant for dressing him up in my ballet tutus and forcing him to play house with me. (i wanted a sister, too; what can i say?)
at a certain point, though, it becomes hard to force a little boy to prance around like a ballerina and pour imaginary cups of tea. so patrick started fighting back. he'd say no, i'd say yes, we'd get into a fight, he'd pull my hair, etc.
well, one day whatever he did really, really angered me. so i did what any big sister would do: i took all his (clean) underwear, stuffed it into a plastic bag, filled it with water and froze every last garment. he was so mad--his face turned bright red--and my mom couldn't decide whether to laugh or scold me. i think, in the end, she did both.
poor patrick. not that he was a saint himself, though; fast-forward to his high school years, when he and two friends got suspended for having a potato-sack race across the section of our high school's outdoor campus, which they'd nicknamed "the shire." except they didn't use potato sacks...they used their uniform shorts. ha!
naughty can be fun, can't it?!
hehe, i agree with megan, naughty can be fun. way. way. way fun.
have a naughty weekend.
xoxo
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