Today's topic prompt is a funny childhood memory. Well let's just say that funny is in the eye of the beholder. Or something along those lines.
There is the one birthday when my younger brother felt carsick and instead of pulling over my mother simply rolled down the window and told him to stick his head out while he purged... not realizing of course that the back window was open as well, resulting in me being doused in vomit on the momentous occasion of getting my ears pierced....
Or the neon parachute pants... the bad hair cuts... those large awkward front teeth.
I mean with nuggets such as those how does one choose?
Firstly let me say my mother suffers from an affliction whereas when she is forced to laugh heartily the laughs tends to seep out her eyeballs in the form of tears. Quite convincingly I might add.
For any new to this place my family and I spent six years in the back woods of Maine. No place to go. No one to see. And clearly, not much to do for entertainment in the evening hours. My mother would get dressed every day for sure, but not in the finest of duds. Mostly old worn t-shirts of my fathers with holes here and there.
One night my father made some off hand comment to my mother about the state of a particular shirt. Something about tearing the shirt off and throwing it in the garbage. He decided this would, in fact, be an appropriate course of action and therefore ripped her shirt from her person. Now while my older brother and I found this to me most humorous (mommy's bra was showing and everything), my younger brother, The Protector, did not. In between the laughing tears she was screaming help me Robbie over and over.... and well. Little Robbie answered the call with gusto. I don't know from whence he came but you could hear the furious stomping of his toddler feet well before he entered the room. He charged at my father with great force and did his best to stop the abuse. Like a kitten batting at a lion.
Which just resulted in more laughter and then more tears. And poor little Robbie. How confused he must have been.
Little cutie. And clearly, all was forgiven.
There is the one birthday when my younger brother felt carsick and instead of pulling over my mother simply rolled down the window and told him to stick his head out while he purged... not realizing of course that the back window was open as well, resulting in me being doused in vomit on the momentous occasion of getting my ears pierced....
Or the neon parachute pants... the bad hair cuts... those large awkward front teeth.
I mean with nuggets such as those how does one choose?
Firstly let me say my mother suffers from an affliction whereas when she is forced to laugh heartily the laughs tends to seep out her eyeballs in the form of tears. Quite convincingly I might add.
For any new to this place my family and I spent six years in the back woods of Maine. No place to go. No one to see. And clearly, not much to do for entertainment in the evening hours. My mother would get dressed every day for sure, but not in the finest of duds. Mostly old worn t-shirts of my fathers with holes here and there.
One night my father made some off hand comment to my mother about the state of a particular shirt. Something about tearing the shirt off and throwing it in the garbage. He decided this would, in fact, be an appropriate course of action and therefore ripped her shirt from her person. Now while my older brother and I found this to me most humorous (mommy's bra was showing and everything), my younger brother, The Protector, did not. In between the laughing tears she was screaming help me Robbie over and over.... and well. Little Robbie answered the call with gusto. I don't know from whence he came but you could hear the furious stomping of his toddler feet well before he entered the room. He charged at my father with great force and did his best to stop the abuse. Like a kitten batting at a lion.
Which just resulted in more laughter and then more tears. And poor little Robbie. How confused he must have been.
Little cutie. And clearly, all was forgiven.
I am linking up with Helene and Tay and their #blogtober14 challenge. If a topic tickles my fancy I figure they won't mind another participant... right?
