Posted on 04/12/2014 6:32:44 PM PDT by MNDude
Almost everyone has a story of something where did something so dumb and crazy as a kid that their parents ground them for a long time. Rode the family horse to town? Let a homeless guy sleep over in your parents bed while they were out of town? What is your story that you're lucky to be alive after your parents found out?
“I no have your candy.”
“You yes have my candy.”
My little brother, a year younger, had a paper route and threw papers off a motorcycle during the week. Sunday’s paper was huge and too much for his 50 cc bike to carry such a heavy load. Having acquired my drivers license that year I agreed to get up at 5:00 and take him on his route, if he paid me. My dad had a 51 International Pickup with a granny 3 spd that he had gotten from his father who purchased it new. We just thought it was an old, highway stripe yellow colored, pickup that we were kinda ashamed to be seen in, but would do the job. Little brother loaded up the papers and would ride in the back and throw as I drove him on his route. Afterwards we would go “joy riding” all over town till the sun came up. This particular time, we wound up in a park and were doing off road maneuvers in the old truck. The grass was wet and we found out if you got going pretty fast and turned you could do some swell drifting. We were laughing and having fun till the wheels caught on something and we went over, from one side to the other with the passenger door pointing skyward and me laying on top of my brother. We managed to get out the window and push the truck back onto it’s wheels but there wasn’t a fender, hood, or top that didn’t have huge dents in them. Surprisingly, even with oil dripping out the sides of the hood, it started back up. We knew we were toast when my Dad saw the truck and we were too scared to tell him what we had done when we got back home and knowing we would have to wake him up to tell him, so we coasted down the driveway and went and hid in the travel trailer. The sun was up for a while when my Dad came and opened the door and though we knew he was mad, I think he was more relieved to see we were still alive after seeing the truck. Didn’t get to drive the truck on the paper route again and had to do yard work for seems like forever.
I gave my dynamite story already and the fire story isn’t all that good.
I didn’t tell the:
Car wrecked or spin out stories…
The driving down campus stairways in a Cutlass convertible story…
The getting crushed by 1500 lbs of sheetrock story…
The jumping off the roof story…
The cutting torch story…
The six hundred and eighty-seven stories involving alcohol consumption stories…
I could go on, but let’s keep it to items beyond the statute of limitations, but see we do have more than fire and dynamite — we are the adults that were the kids our mothers warned us about.
This was a girl that I never thought I could ever get within ten feet of. So when she made her suggestion it never entered my feeble mind what she was getting at.
I think Five Hail Mary’s should cover it.
So she went golfing?
I was the youngest of three brothers. We lived several miles out of town so in keeping ourselves amused we had to be creative. One summer we discovered it was fun to throw eggs at cars speeding by on the highway down below our house. We snuck all the eggs we could from mom, borrowed some from my grandmother and even walked a couple of miles to purchase some from a neighbor. The neighbor was an old retired guy that happened to be the bartender at a nearby pub that dad frequented. He told dad that he didn’t know what was going on but them boys come by a bought a dozen eggs from him for five dollars (which was a ridiculous price way back then) and he suspected we were up to no good.
Well a couple of days later dad came home from work and asked us what we did with those eggs we bought from Mike. My middle brother who was always quick with the story said we took them out to Chris’s house (a kid that lived out the valley) and cooked them. Dad asked my oldest brother if he ate any and he said no. He looked at me and I said no I didn’t eat any either. Middle brother said him and Chris ate them all. Dad asked how did ou cook them and Dennis said scrambled. My dad said “yea, I suppose they would be scrambled hitting a car windshield at 70 miles an hour. Seems as though we egged a few of the guys dad worked in the woods with.
“I think she must have thought we were just crazy.”
What a great story. I bet those Japanese riot police were also wondering what the heck was going on - getting hosted by a couple of 8 year olds!
Speaking of food, I used to sneak out of the house on Sunday mornings to avoid going to church. Always ended up at the old couple’s house opposite our back yard and two doors down. Just about the time I had finished off my pancakes my Dad would come walking over. I’m guessing I was only 4 or 5 or something. Never did get out of missing church!
Lamarr: Qualifications?
Bart: Stampeding cattle.
Lamarr: That’s not much of a crime.
Bart: Through the Vatican?
Lamarr: Kinky. Sign here.
(Blazing Saddles)
I had just bought my first 4x4 truck. Was driving it around the mountains in Colorado on some narrow, muddy roads. Got all turned around and couldn’t figure out how to get out of the maze of trails. I ended up seeing the road way down a grassy slope and made it down okay, but with big, deep, brown muddy ruts tracing down the long green slope. Across the sidewalk in between two condos and tracking mud down the street.
All my old man said was “maybe we should drive out onto the freeway before we head back to our condo”. We had driven down one of the ski slopes at Vail! (We found a car wash up in Eagle too!)
ping
There was a neighbor, my Daisy BB pistol, and a broken tooth. Hey, when someone says don’t come any closer, don’t come any closer. I guess it was hard for him to hide the broken tooth, and that’s when the Sheriff became fascinated.
Social thing in my rural county (circa 1980), where cruising was king, was throwing big, wild graduation parties, as a one-uppance over the other county schools. I mean BIG parties, 300-400 people, band, beer truck, the whole thing.
Old man co-owned a bar at the time, in the Big City, so the local constabulary knew if booze was involved, it was likely ME bringing it.
Night of graduation, the cops knew there would be a party, but they didn’t know where.
I drove the back roads like an idiot, trying to get myself pulled over. When it finally happened, it was all four of the County Sheriff’s duty cars. They pulled out my seats, and emptied the trunk looking for booze.
What they didn’t know was that as they pulled me over, I keyed the mic open on my CB radio. My three buddies, who had been hiding on the edge of town, with cars loaded down with booze of all kinds, then drove past us, and waved at the cops on their way to the party.
Luckily, I left for the Air Force shortly after that, and didn’t have to face the revenge of the locals, who were quite angry about it.
Today, I hardly drink at all...
Exploding in an unenclosed space like that, the energy would have been quickly dispersed. I don’t think you were in mortal danger, but could have lost an eye or something.
What I used to do was pull out the bullets and then crimp the mouth of the case on .22s with pliers, then put them on streetcar tracks. Also tried to make a .22 zip gun but was not successful.
>>Fire was big with me a a boy.
Started a small gasoline fire in the garage to see if my fire extinguisher worked. Fortunately, it did.
How I survived those years, I’ll never know.
Here’s my story.
My brother and I, 1979. Clark Air Base. I was 7, he was 10. We wandered down to Gus Grissom Elementary School. Yes, I went to Gus Grissom Elementary. We were bored on a weekend.
We happened upon a full pack of Marlboro Reds, sitting in the grass. Lucky day.
I guess I was ballsy. Or at least I knew what could and couldn’t land me in immediate trouble. As we got to the school grounds, we walked up to the filipino guard with the M-16. I put a cigarette in my mouth and said, hey, you gotta light?
His response? You smoke? I nodded yes. I was 7. He lit my cigarette. We climbed up to a spot on the building and chain smoked that whole pack.
When we got back to the house, we gargled mouthwash over and over, and never got caught. I’m still not sure whether to tell Mom and Dad.
I was the good kid. My Brother, well...
Back in 61, the whole Family goes down to TJ. My Dad used to flip Cars, and he always had the Interior’s redone there. Cheap and good quality work.
We get down there and my Parents drop off the Car and go shopping. They let me (8 years old) and my Brother (14 years old) wander off. It was a different town back then.
I follow my Brother into a Store where he proceeds to buy a Bag full Of Cherry Bombs and a Bag full of Ash Cans. We all meet up and pickup the Car. My Brother places the two bags on the floor behind his legs in the back seat.
We are stopped at the Border and Border Control Agent leans into the Car asking my Father if we have anything to declare. My Dad says no, but then the guy looks in the back seat and sees my Brother looking a bit “guilty”.
I’m staring straight ahead and the guy says to me, hey little guy, is there anything you want to tell me? My Brother was frozen, and I looked at the Guy and said “no Sir”. The guy gives my Brother a quick glance and winks at him. I thought my Brother was going to puke.
My Dad must have laughed until we hit Oceanside. My Mother was not amused.
I’m sure we did a bunch of stupid things with those explosive devices, like adding them to Bottle Rockets and scaring a while bunch of people, but I seem to have a memory block about that.
Oh yeah, there was the time when we visited Relatives in New York that my “fun” Uncle acquired a Mat of Blackjack Firecrackers for me from the back of a shop in Chinatown.
They fit perfectly in my Samsonite Luggage for the flight home to CA. I think that would called a Felony today. I was very popular when I got home. I was like a Drug Dealer selling off my stock for a tidy profit to my Friends.
Took my dad’s vintage 1965 Honda motorcycle into town witbought a license or permission. Wiped out on a gravel road and busted it up a bit. I am lucky to have survived!
ROTFLAMO !!!!
That’s hilarious!!!
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