Do you remember.........

Pappy

Pappy

Living the Dream
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Moved back to NY from Florida. 🤓 2025
Do you remember some of the, not to smart, things you did as a kid?

One thing I will never forget .....I was going to put on a circus for my parents and needed some green paint for something. The paint was in the woodshed and way up high. As I reached for it, the top came off and dumped its contents right square on my head. Latex hadn't been invented yet, so this was oil base paint.

my poor mom spent most of the day trying to get it off and the turpentine was starting to raise hell with my skin and eyes. I missed a couple days of school until I looked fairly human. To this day, I hate to paint.
 

Well, there are way too many to count. Living for a time out in the South Pacific on a tiny island, would often explore the reefs alone or accompanied by one of the island dogs. Tide was out so hoofed it over to an adjoining uninhabited island for some exploration. Upon returning to the reef, discovered the tide has begun to rise and waded across without being washed away or consumed by sharks. My guardian angel watches over me . . .
 

Wasn't theres some kind of powder paint, or was that whitewash we had in those days????

Similar story here...friend and I decided we could cross the Mississippi River.....she could swim a little; I couldn't. We got halfway across, and I couldn't feel the bottom anymore. Water was up to my neck, and there was an undercurrent pulling me.
Dont know how I got out of that one, but managed to move enough to find bottom, and slowly got back to the bank.

yup, we must have had guardian angels. They still around??? Now there's safety belts on everything, including high chairs...
guess they're not needed anymore??
 
I remember letting our kids run around the neighborhood some 40 years ago (in the 60's) on a regular basis. Never worried about what they were doing and who they were with. Life was easy and seemed simple.

I think about that time now and shake my head. Seems like a lifetime ago... the freedom lost. So sad.
 
When the county ran mosquito spray trucks through the neighborhood we would ride our bikes through the clouds coming off the back! maybe that explains why I have an extra ear.

(just kidding about the ear)
 
R. Zimm said:
When the county ran mosquito spray trucks through the neighborhood we would ride our bikes through the clouds coming off the back! maybe that explains why I have an extra ear.

(just kidding about the ear)
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HEY! We did the exact same thing!

(not kidding about the ear...)
 
TWHRider said:
Oh let me count the ways I got into trouble on the farm and dad would holler "DAUGHTER! To the Hallway!"

Dad only called me "daughter" when the razor strap (hanging in the hallway) was going to connect to my butt.

I paid penance for many "minor" infractions in my youth -- no regrets -- I deserved everything I got and a few dad missed:p

The one I didn't get whuppin' for was the most dangerous.

I was four when I pulled what I thought was a rabbit, away from our two Shepherd/Collie mixes. They were trying to tear the poor thing to pieces.

Turns out it was rat --- when I went to set it down, I discovered it was hanging onto my finger. I screamed the dogs pulled it off and killed it.

That was when I learned the dangerously high tolerance for pain I have --- I never felt that rat chewing my finger nearly off and I never felt the doctor stitching me up (he did it without giving me any anesthetic). I still carry the scar that goes half way around the underside of my first finger.

The rat got sent away and thankfully it was not rabid. Everyone figured it was just exhausted from battling with the dogs and that's why it let me pick it up.

I was only four and believe me, my curiosity didn't stop with that rat. It took me until I was around 12 to get smart about picking up things that I had no business picking up:eek:nthego:
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TWHRider -- Savior of rats!
 
TWHRider said:
... It took me until I was around 12 to get smart about picking up things that I had no business picking up:eek:nthego:
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I STILL haven't learned that lesson, especially when I'm in the red-light district ...

I should have been jailed multiple times when I was a kid for the trouble I got into, but somehow the gods always managed to smile down upon me.

I set my bedroom curtains on fire playing with matches when I was 4 ... applied the FRONT brakes on my 3-speed English racer bike while going full-speed down a steep hill (went ass-over-tea-kettle over a guardrail and down the hill filled with broken bottles and cans) ... multiple stings from poking at a hornet's nest inside a little wood shed in our backyard ...

I even liked standing up in my highchair (so I was told) and one time my folks weren't fast enough to catch me as I took a swan-dive and hit my upper lip on the metal-banded edge of the kitchen table ... still have a scar from that ...

I got bit by a squirrel because I was feeding it peanuts by hand ... bit by a dog that I THOUGHT was friendly ... knocked myself out in grade school playing dodge-ball and running full-tilt into a concrete wall (still have a big bump on my forehead) ...

Shoved a pair of scissors under my left thumbnail by accident ... two days later, did the same thing to the RIGHT side ...

That wooden shed in my backyard where I got stung? Me and my "posse" used to climb onto the roof and jump off - about 8' high. Should have broken something but never did.

The idiocy continued well into adulthood - to this very day, in fact - but it would take too much space here to list everything. :playful:
 
The rat story reminded me of one. At about four I found a large & lethargic one outside and brought it in to the living room as a surprise for my dad who was napping on the sofa. I put it on his chest and pandemonium ensued, with grandmother and mother on table and chair, and dad madder than a hornet! He saw to it that the (probably poisoned) rat bought it out back. That was my last rescue for a while.
 
janfromflorida said:
The rat story reminded me of one. At about four I found a large & lethargic one outside and brought it in to the living room as a surprise for my dad who was napping on the sofa. I put it on his chest and pandemonium ensued, with grandmother and mother on table and chair, and dad madder than a hornet! He saw to it that the (probably poisoned) rat bought it out back. That was my last rescue for a while.
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We just can't help our love of furry little creatures . . .
 
When I was 5 or 6, I heard a joke at school. Even though I didn't understand it, I decided I would tell it at the supper table. I remember my mom darn near choking to death when I told it. I was informed by my step-dad if I ever said that again, I would regret it to the fullest extent. I got his drift. Later as I grew older, I found out the folks had a good laugh telling this story for several years.
 
That Guy said:
We just can't help our love of furry little creatures . . .
Click to expand...

That's how my ex- described our relationship to her parents ...

Rats can be cute - well, as cute as a deadly, pest-ridden creature can be - but usually the cute ones you see in the pet store. The monsters that invade our neighborhoods, marching in lock-step from the nearest polluted stream, are a different story.

My roomie went outside yesterday with a bag of garbage and went to place it in the plastic garbage can. We had had some heavy rain a few days ago and the can was left with one full bag in it, with the lid off. As a result there was a few inches of water in the bottom.

Roomie went to place the new bag in there, pushing and shoving it down, when TWO furry little rat-a-tat-rats popped up, waved hello and scrambled around before taking off into the neighbor's yard. I heard her scream, grabbed my fighting knife and went flying out the door expecting to find the cast of West Side Story reenacting their big fight scene. Instead I just found a trembling roomie doing a little hopping-dance around the back porch.

She swears they were huge; when I asked her to estimate their size, she held her hands about 6" apart. I laughed.

Compared to SOME rats I've encountered that would be a baby. City rats have been known to eat cats and little dogs (when they feel like Mexican they eat a few chihuahuas), so to my mind these little guys were no big deal.
 
Just think, in 60 years the members of this forum will be saying things like "When I was 5 I tweeted a picture of another boy using the toilet. They made me take three weeks of sensitivity classes!"
 
OMG, you guys are funny. I enjoyed every story. It's amazing how much we shared as kids. I, too, used to ride my bike following the mosquito trucks. I imagined it to be like flying a airplane in the clouds. Do they still spray for mosquitos anywhere? The rat story reminded me of when I was eight or nine playing "war" with my friends. It was twilight on a cold autumn school evening. We were milking every last minute out of the day to play in a vacant wooded lot near my house. We were lobbing hand grenades (pine cones) and using sticks as guns and swords. I reached down to pick up this long stick nestled in the pine needles of a small grove of trees. As I raised it to my face to point as a gun, it began to bend, and I found myself staring at the pointed head of a three foot copperhead snake. I froze for an instant. Thankfully it was late fall and the snake was somewhat dormant. I was ten feet away by the time it hit the ground.
 

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