did we have this conversation before?
I saw a quote on the internet the other night that went, "when I talk about rebooting, I mean kicking somebody in the butt twice." I thought that was funny. Glad to see everyone's around again, everyone's posts seem to bring back memories to me of when we were growing up. I know I mentioned sneaking into Jan's room and listening to records when she wasn't there, but I did the same thing to Kathy, probably more so. I remember she came home from school one day and had a little vial of mercury, related to some high school science class. She told me, "This is very dangerous so don't play with it. Don't even touch it." She left and I went in her room, opened the vial, and promptly spilled half of it on the carpet. It's a wonder we're not all dead. Joe was just as bad with me, if not worse. I used to do a lot of cartoons and paste-ups and so forth, and I had an exacto-knife. I think that's what it was called. Used for trimming photos, drawings, whatever, like a razor blade with a handle. Mom was out one day and even though I was in the house with him (he was probably six or so), he went into my room and quickly managed to cut himself with it, between the thumb and forefinger. Joe didn't seem terribly upset about it as I bandaged the cut, but I kept thinking, "Mom's going to kill me, she's going to kill me..." Then she got home, I told her what happened, and she didn't say anything. Funny what you remember.
posted by gbj at 3:08 PM
2 Comments:
Yeah, the scorpions and the Baileys have never gotten along. I think we've all been stung by them. I definitely don't love scorpions.
Joe, the india ink thing happened twice I think, once with you and once with my friend Bob Camp. I just remember Mom shooing everyone from the room and getting it out of the carpet before it had a chance to dry.
I remember that mercury. What the hell was I doing with it in the first place? I agree it's lucky we're all still alive. My most bizarre accident as a kid was playing dartboard for Lorena-across-the-street. She was aiming at a tree and I thought I was at a safe distance to the side , but she couldn't throw for nuts. It zipped right into my thigh and stayed there. Just like in the movies. In my memory we stared at it for about fifteen minutes before she began to beg me not to tell anyone. But I was afraid to pull it out, and Mom would probably have noticed it even if I hadn't said anything at supper.
Post a Comment
<< Home