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?
Burnt down the lot next door playing with matches. Fire Dept and everything. :-)
For the most part I was such a good kid that I had to make up stuff for confession.
Of course, being such a good kid, would have to confess to telling a lie at my last confession.
I do remember getting in an ‘argument’ with my mother and stating:
“I don’t blame HIM for leaving, if I could, I would.”
She in effect called me a ‘Bustard’ by saying:
“You never know who your father really is”.
Not me. I was a little angel — never a bit of trouble.
I laughed so hard I nearly coughed out a lung! Thanks!
Back in high school, I’m sorry to say I got a girl “in trouble.”
I framed her for murder.
*rimshot*
-
More seriously, though, I was a pretty good kid. I think the worst thing I did was to rig up a bottle rocket launcher on the handlebars of my Huffy 1-speed bicycle.
There was just something about the ability to fire rockets from my bicycle that appealed to me. :-)
4 years old, I set our haystack on fire.
9 years old I set a field on fire.
I used to be quite a firebug.
Same year we made crop circles in an alfalfa field, NOT the field I set on fire but in the same area.
Same year I placed lots of roofing nails point up in the road.
At 5 I poured water in dad’s gas tank.
At 10 I shot a BB hole in dad’s car side window.
Craziest dumbest thing I ever did never got me in trouble, but it sure could have got me killed. We had a man made lake in town in a wide spot in a wash with a dam on one end. I went climbing around on the non-lake side which was a rather vertical but very rough wall, good for footholds. Got a really amazing view of the lake because the top of the dam was only a couple inches about the lake. On the “dry” side there was an “overflow” trough, about 10 feet deep, and really gross. The punchline is I couldn’t swim at the time, if I’d have slipped on that wall assuming the “roll” didn’t kill me I’d have drown, which probably would have been a nicer way to go than whatever diseases were in that water.
I haven’t done that.
I slacked off!
/johnny
That’s a great Cash song:)
on another note...that’s just plain mean!
I was always the good one. My brother was a holy terror. He was so bad my parents actually PAID him to be good. Me, on the other hand, was good for nothing.
One day, someone in school mentioned the weird rash of fires. A girl look over and smiled a little and said, "That's me."
She was gone a day or two later. Never saw her in school again.
Did a flame burnout in front of the dime store in Iron Mountain Michigan in my hotrod. What I did not know is that my mom was in that dime store watching the whole thing.
She never said a word to me. My brother in law told me of the scene and I asked what mother said. He told me she mentioned something about insurance.
Dam, did I light the street up that night. They said it lit up the whole block. I got outta town real quick before the authorities showed up.
I didn’t do this but the son of a friend did.
There was construction going on in the neighborhood. Her son found some blasting caps. He found it interesting to put them on the radiator, make them go sssszzz, and then take them off.
Anyway - he was sitting on the toilet one day putting the blasting caps on the radiator. One of them wouldn’t stop sizizng so he stood up and threw it in the toilet.
You’re right. The thing exploded. The contents of the toilet went all over the bathroom. The commode went into 5 or 6 pieces. He came running out of the basement with his pants down around his ankles.
Interestingly, the plumber never asked how the commode was destroyed.
“A girl look over and smiled a little and said, “That’s me.”
She sounds just like one of the characters on that Showtime show “Shameless”.
I was a firebug too, I lit a fridge box in the basement on fire with my cousin, he didn’t think it was a good idea, but I was a year older at 7, so of course I knew it was a good idea.
My mother and aunt were upstairs in the kitchen, the flames were fanning out on the drywall on the ceiling when they must of figured something was wrong, because we were too awestruck to make a noise.
They came running down, and luckily the fire extinguisher still worked (as I had discharged some a few weeks earlier and not told anyone). They got the fire out, and the floor had black marks as did the ceiling. It stayed that way until my parents finished the basement many years later.
I think it goes without saying I was beat...severely...severely enough to horrify any liberal lol.
CrazyIvan, aptly named.
Even I had enough common sense to not lay under a train, and that’s saying a lot heh.
***Her son found some blasting caps.***
When I was young out in the mining and oil camps of the west, all the schools had assembies in which we were warned to look out for blasting caps.
We never found any, but dad did find a stick of dynamite in a house we rented. He had been in the Combat Engineers and loaded us all up in the car, took us way out into the country and showed us how to slice up and destroy a stick of dynamite.
If that thing had gone off in the car I would not be writing this today.
Today, if a stick is found, there is a evacuation of the area, and the police bomb squad blows up the stick without removing it from the area.
During the summer between sixth and seventh grade I was caught shoplifing (that’s breaking the Seventh Commandment of God for you heathens out there). My Dad picked me up at the store from the store detectives and boy was he disappointed in me. I think I felt like St. Peter after denying Christ.
I was sorry and not just because I was caught but because I KNEW I was sinful.
That same day later in the afternoon, a Saturday, he brought me to Confession at Church of the Resurrection in Sunnyvale, CA and I honestly confessed my SIN before God (and the priest).
Afterwards, I never stole anything again....except I took one of those 3m stickiepads from work once.
I have other true stories about me getting in trouble, but never in real big trouble if you know what I mean.
Hey God, thanks for forgiving me and giving me another chance.
Your perpetual prodigal prudent pious perpetrator in Christ.
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