Toby said,
Don’t tell that story! People will think, ‘First bugs, then crumbling walls, now this… they live in a shit hole!’
And I assure you, we don’t. And I also know Toby and how he really doesn’t care what I say or share on here, so here goes. (hehe, I’ll make it up to you, hon). But before telling this story I should tell you about a childhood memory.
I was around 6 and I was in the bathroom, ready to blow my nose all adult-like. Pickin it wasn’t so cool after finding that the weird kid in the first grade not only picked his, but he ate them too. And he sucked. Everyone knew that. So I’m in there doing my thing, and suddenly the tissue sort of pulls away in one place, leaving my nostril exposed. So one got away. I didn’t see it happen, but I knew it. I felt it leave. And so I looked EVERYWHERE. I mean, I scaled the walls, the ceiling, the tiles, the sink, the toilet and even myself. Nothing. No boogies anywhere to be found. So I finally gave up thinking
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just some sort of pocket of air.
About three days later, maybe a week, we’re all sitting around the dinner table chatting and my mother says,
Kids, I can handle a lot of things. I can handle forgetting to flush the toilet, dirty cloths, skinned knees, even farts, but I have to draw the line at cleaning big boogers from the bathroom wall.
I was not only mortified (as there was a 50 percent chance on the finger being pointed at myself [Ryan wasn’t even old enough to hold his head up or eat, so he could not be blamed]) but shocked. I wondered,
WHERE did this woman FIND the damn thing!
The question bothered me so much, I almost confessed for relief. But I didn’t. We were done. It was over. And I didn’t admit to it until I was about 25 or so.
So the other day, Toby and I are talking in the foyer. I think we’re getting ready to head out… and I look over to my right, down the wall, about 2 feet from the floor and notice something weird. I peer in closer and there I see them, three of them, big manlike boogers standing there, peering back at me. I look at Toby, sort of speechless, ready to blame it on him and say
Dude, there are SNOT on our wall. Someone wiped snot on the wall right here.
I point.
SNOT. Can you believe that? Big boogers!
He takes a look and says,
GROSS! Clean it up!
There ain’t no way I was gonna clean that crap up. No way. I’ll clean up cat puke and cat pee and cat poo but not human snot. I draw the line at human snot. So Toby cleans it up with a 6 foot broom and a dustpan, scoops it away (along with some paint from the wall, telling us it’d been there for a bit and most likely the maintenance men did it when they painted our place a few months back). Snot.
I assure you, our place is very nice. And if Missy pops by or scbob or even my mother, I’m sure that they’ll back me up on this claim. I think perhaps it was just a little karma, for that time I was young and couldn’t place the contents of my own nose.
So fess up. What did you do?
I was in 4th grade, and stuck at my grandparents house for a week, while my parents were on vacation. I was extremely bored and pissed that I was there, so I took gum and stuck it to the corner of a wall in their house. I thought to myself that it might take years for them to ever discover that big wad of Hubba Bubba, and thought I was so ‘bad ass.’
My grandpa found it later that day and was pretty mad, and confused on why I would do such a thing. They bought me a ‘gum holder’ (a little porceline figure that you could place your gum on) thinking it would help.
That was the same week I had a contest with myself to see how long I could go without peeing or pooing. I made it about 2 days without peeing, and 3 days without pooing. Someone should’ve really given me a crayon or something constructive to do.
Holy crap! that’s super weird and funny. Good times.
I can’t imagine going two days without peeing. I’d just pop or piss myself.
Kids do the weirdest things. So funny.
I’m an only child. It’s the only way I could keep myself entertained.
This doeasn’t have anything to do with the topic at hand, but I randomly ran into your brother & his wife last night out in the ‘burbs while going out for beer & pizza. Weird.
Mihow, I’m sorry. I was the one who wiped boogers on the wall. It was my christmas gift to you. I’m sorry you didn’t like it. :)
I forget, but I may have done that on the last visit so that the cats would have something to remind them of me. As you get older, you have trouble remembering things.
Oh! I forgot. You also asked for a testimonial to your little palace. It is very nice and clean! Now, what was I doing? That’s right, I have a meeting with Jackie in about an hour.
I’m going to give them to my pal, Horatio and find out whose they are.
I made snot sculptures. creative as I am.
Ok, I can’t be the only freak out there with a weird story. Share, share! Don’t sell me out here. ;)
You’re not the only one. I am sure of that.
A girl I knew growing up saved all her gum in the freezer in some container. What the hell for? Never made any sense to me. Oh well.
Everyone is weird. Everyone.
when i got sick of playing with
a particular barbie doll, i would…
1. cut her hair off and make her be a guy
and see if that made her any more “new” to me.
2. once sick again of that new transexual barbie, bury her in the dirt and have a barbie funeral.
3. request a new doll for my birthday
this ritual was the same for every doll i ever had.
somewhere on an old farm in nebraska there are a coupled dozen hairless dolls buried 2 feet deep behind a barn, with other assorted toys like “carebears” and “my little ponies”.
i know i have a million other reasons to verify why i am “weird”…
My barbies would hump. And Ken wasn’t ever involved. They just looked better together while naked.
I’m not sure if it was that I liked to have the barbies act gay or because I realized early on, that ken wasn’t into girls.
Oh, I think every girl’s Barbies had sex. I once even pretended that it was “their job” to have sex. Not in a prostitution sort of way, but just that that’s ALL they did.
Freakish, I know.
My dad would often question me on why my dolls were always naked or half naked. I’d lie and say that I was in the middle of changing their clothes, got bored, and quit.
My Barbie got to date Arnold Horschack. I have no idea why I had a Horschack doll, but there you have it.
no way ! my sister had a friend or some girl she knew that saved up all her gum! oddly enough I thought that was an interesting experiment at the time.