I remember when one of my sisters stole some money and then put it into my brother's birdhouse after my parents got involved and started looking for it. They always suspected him of everything, including the things she did, and they refused to believe that my sister would ever steal. So if my sister thought she might get caught she could always push the blame off onto my brother. My parents ordered my brother to show them where he had put the money. Of course, since he didn't steal it he had no idea where it was. My sister then helped them search, slowly leading them outside where she miraculously "discovered" it in his birdhouse. My parents then said that if he was going to act like a criminal they would treat him as one. So my mom made him put on his pajamas and she locked him in his room for a week. He could only come out to use the bathroom. My parents never did figure out that my sister had scammed them. This was also the point at which my brother says he sat in that room and decided if he was going to be treated like a criminal then he was going to become one for real.
I remember in the 2nd grade I had heard that some people will write cuss words on the walls in bathrooms. I didn't really understand why anyone did this, but since my older brother had already taught them all to me I decided to try it out. Unfortunately I didn't know how to spell them, as they weren't teaching us the proper spelling of cuss words in the 2nd grade yet. So I made my best guess and wrote them in crayon on our classroom's bathroom wall. I remember when someone found it and told the teacher, Mrs. Pace, she went and looked and came out laughing. Misspelled cusswords written in crayon probably would be funny, but I was only 7 years old. I did the best I could.
I remember playing SuperUnderwear, which was when me and my best friend, Tony, would take our pants off and tie them around our necks like capes. Then we'd run around the yard yelling "SUUUUUUPER Underwear!" I have no idea why this was fun, but we were only about 4 years old at the time. Tony's twin sisters seemed to think it was funny, but my mom sure didn't.
I remember me and my older brother playing "Garbageman" on the back of Dad's new Dodge van. We'd drag the big metal trash cans out and then ride the bumper of the van, pretending we were driving through the neighborhoods emptying people's trash. Ah, what dreams and aspirations we had!
I remember my oldest sister backing her Impala into my middle sister's pickup truck. My youngest sister and I were in the back seat screaming at her, "STOP! STOP! STOP!" She was totally oblivious. And after she hit the truck and put a massive dent in it she said, "huh?" And then, after she got out and looked at the huge, huge dent she made in the driver's side front fender she said, "do you think she'll notice?"
I remember some of the cars Dad bought for us when we turned 16 (at least we were lucky enough to get them.) My oldest sister needed a car and a neighbor had a 1963 Plymouth Valiant he wanted to get rid of. I think Dad paid him $75 for it. Then he had to put another $200 worth of parts in it and a lot of hard work to make it run. It had an automatic transmission, but instead of a shift lever on the steering column or a console it had push-buttons on the dash. It was the tiniest car we had ever seen before and my sisters both ended up driving it like a go-cart. They had a blast with it. It wouldn't go very fast, but it was fun.
I remember Mom's powder blue Ford Galaxy stationwagon. It didn't have power steering or power brakes and Mom was always really weak. Plus, she complained a lot. She also drives with the seat all the way forward so that the steering wheel is practically against her chest. She'd be making a turn, cursing about the lack of power steering, and the wheel would be scraping against her seatbelt buckle as she turned it, making a clacking sound. Scraping, clacking, and cursing, that was my mom driving.
I remember riding in the back of my mom's stationwagon. Sometimes both of the back seats were folded down. Their backs were just sheet metal. So the entire back of the car was just a slippery metal surface when the seats were down. We used to sit back there and slide around while she drove. It was a blast. She later put pillows back there so we could slide better. Today politicians are making millions forcing plastic buckets on all parents and forcing them all to duct tape their children into these buckets lest they escape and have an actual childhood. Clearly our police have nothing better to do than help the politicians sell you a new model bucket for your child each and every year. Because everyone knows that parents are much too immature to make adult decisions about how to raise their own children and carry them in cars. That's what we have governments for.
My mom has a limited vocabulary of curse words. I think she made most of them up on her own. Her two favorite words to say when she's mad are "damn" and "fiddlesticks." And when she's telling a story she always forgets half the names of everything, so everything becomes "whatchamacallit" and "thingamajig."
I remember when my parents had no credit cards and refused to get one because they were too risky. Today they have one. Yes, only one, and it's for emergencies only. Now I'm the one. I refuse to get a debit card. I wouldn't use it anyway, but the banks keep sending them and I keep shredding them.
My parents have one cell phone and it's a disposable thing that Mom gets recharged with more minutes every so often. I don't think my dad even knows she has it. We had to show her how to use it and even with all our instruction she's just barely able to make a call.
I remember in college when my dad got his first remote controlled TV set. The remote was huge and only had 3 buttons - on/off, channel up, and channel down. I don't remember if he bought it at a garage sale or found it in someone's trash. Either scenario is equally likely. And it wasn't as if remote controlled TVs were new or rare. He just never bought one. When I think about it I don't think my parents have a TV in their entire house that is less than 20 years old.
I remember when CDs were a new thing, my best friend, Tony, went out and bought all his favorite music on CDs. He had stacks of CDs everywhere. But he didn't buy a CD player to listen to the CDs on until about 2 years later. Yeah I know. I have no idea why he did that.
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