Up until now, most everything I have written has been some deep new revelation about me that is traced back to some part of my childhood. Of course, there are those who don’t really enjoy my blog because it can be kind of …depressing. Today, however, I am changing it up a little and just going to share three kinda-of-cute-but-very-self-indulgent stories from my past. Now keep in mind that I actually have no recollection of these happenings but have heard the story told to the world from my own parent’s lips a thousand times. They told these stories so often, that you actually may have already heard them…
Once upon a time, there was a very young toddler; so young, that she moved around mostly in a rolling walker. (These were ancient devices created to teach children how to walk but aren’t used anymore because they aren’t safe). This young girl would wander the somewhat confined 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment, keeping herself entertained. This girl was so smart and resourceful, that she could pretty much even tend to her own physical needs as long as she had her wheels. Every day, this sweet child would somehow manage to scrounge up a 2-liter soda-bottle cap, find a generous water source and sip on refill upon refill …..of free toilet water.
Now, as time passed, and the girl grew, she no longer needed assistance in getting around so away went the rolling walker. Of course, she was now wiser and even more resourceful in finding ways to entertain herself. One Saturday morning, her parents woke to find that the child was nowhere to be found. They searched the small dwelling and just as they were about the panic, a very content, poor, little, rich, white, Mexican girl returned home with party hat on, goodie bag in hand and slice of birthday cake in the other.
Under a somewhat more watchful eye and a bit more childproofing on the front door, her mother noticed that she hadn’t heard any ruckus from the sweet child for a while and decided to check up on her to make sure everything was ok. The mother opened the child’s bedroom door to find the girl writing her name, in very great letters; on a big blank canvas . . . was it the wall, you ask? In fact, it was. Was it with crayons? Of course not! This more ingenious, 3-dimensional art was created by peeling off the back plastic of an entire box of Feminine Pads and sticking them to the wall.
I guess it’s as close as I’ll ever get to seeing my name “up in lights” 😉
To this day, we still have no idea whose birthday party I crashed.
OH! And my mom says she could never use those blue freshening disks in the toilet for fear of poisoning me…


So funny…
ha ha – do you think your mom will read this post? at least it’s not sad! 🙂
Those are the best stories and yes, I have heard them before from your mother!
So, you know what is HILARIOUS about you and this particular blog post? The Sunday after the great pancake catastrophe, my brother and I were telling you the story out in front of the church and we got in HUGE trouble. . . I guess my dad didn’t really want people to know about it. Here’s hoping he can laugh about it 25+ years later. ha ha
that is hilarious!!!!!!!
Ha ha! I’m surprised you hadn’t heard these stories already. LOL