Christmas Cartoon #9
Which sees your Daisy frazzled, bewildered and frankly, being a bit of a bitch
I’m still recovering from wheelchair rage (the mother-in-law’s wheelchair, my rage at the [insert curse word of your choice] arseholes who are either rude, patronising or just plain ignorant in a busy town two weeks before Christmas. That’s short for Christ’s Mass. Time of goodwill to all men. And women. In wheelchairs.)
And let’s have a special mention for the two “ladies” (I use the term loosely) outside W.H. Smiths who were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice us trying to get past and when asked to move their shopping so that we could get into the shop huffed and puffed and made such a song and dance. (To the one on the left, yes you with 4 inches of dark brown roots showing (miaow): if you really drank that much on Friday night then it’s no surprise that you look that raddled.)
And breathe.
So I’ll just leave you with this question - what’s the worst thing you did as a child? Full and frank confessions on a postcard in the comment box please.
December 15th, 2003 07:13
I didn’t go to a Mother’s day service and had nightmares about God coming to get me for days afterwards.
December 15th, 2003 09:55
Aah, so many memories of childhood impropriety. My favourite however, went as follows:
Tensions were running high in the manly smell of a pipe household. Biscuits were disappearing from the biscuit tin at an alarming rate. We were getting through a packet of custard creams in a little over a day.
Denial was the order of the day as everyone refused to admit responsibility. But one of us was lying through our teeth. And that person was me.
As more and more biscuits disappeared, and the parents of the manly smell remortgaged the house to keep us young ‘uns in sweet treats, the digestive police increased the pressure on the sticky fingered culprit.
Fearing that my sugary kleptomania may soon be discovered (for the biscuit stealer was me), I decided drastic action was required.
Waiting for an empty house, I embarked on a stealth mission to the biscuit cupboard.
Taking a digestive and a Twix, I made my way steadily from the kitchen to the stairs, dropping a visible trail of crumbs as I went.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I turned left, into my kid brother’s room, leaving more crumbs as I went.
Leaving a pile of oaty detritus in his favourite sitting area, I wolfed the Twix down and tossed the empty wrapper onto the top of his wardrobe.
Evidence planted, I snook away to my own room, safe in the knowledge I had implicated my eight year old sibling and secured my biscuit stealing safety.
Mwah ha ha ha ha.
December 15th, 2003 14:01
Just after Christmas back in 1970 my dad was rushed into hospital with a perforated appendix. In a fit of sympathy I borrowed 2 bob off my little sister and bought him a huge packet of KP salted peanuts as a get-well present. On being informed that they were “inappropriate” I sold them back to my sister for 2/6 and then got her to share half of them too!
December 15th, 2003 14:09
Evil, evil children! Keep ‘em coming!
December 15th, 2003 15:16
Erm.. I put my younger brother’s head through a plate glass window because he was annoying me.
“Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons for they are subtle and quick to anger!”
December 15th, 2003 15:30
I threw a brick at my mates little brother (we were playing on a building site), knocking him out of the window frame he was balancing in, he toppled to the ground breaking his arm.
I am a crap aim and never thought I would actually hit him. As I was not seen doing this I blamed it on “bigger boys who ran away”. On carrying home the damaged kid I was declared hero for the day for rescuing him.
December 15th, 2003 16:28
I can sympathise - it’s hard enough getting around town with a pushchair at the moment (and I DAREN’T let Akra Jr walk around even with a wrist strap on - it’s so busy and people don’t look where they’re walking) - can’t imagine how much more difficult it would be with a wheelchair.
I do find running over people’s feet is immensely therapeutic when they won’t move…
December 15th, 2003 17:30
Here’s one I distincly remember…
As a wee lassie in primary school (about 9/10) I was involved in a minor fracas with a friend in my English lesson over a red pen bangle (funny plastic bendy pens which went round your wrist to form a rather attractive bangle…hmmm). Deciding mine was nicer than hers, she decided to swap them over when I wasn’t looking. Despite my accusations, she flatly denied stealing my pen, but I knew this to be true because mine (of which there were 4) were all the same width and hers was just ever so slightly wider (plus my friend Annie told me she did it). Following the mornings dispute, I came into the classroom at lunchtime only for my friend to jump out from behind the door and whack me over the head with a lunchbox (a full one, I might add - apple and all) which hurt rather a lot. I pushed her backwards in an attempt to halt the attack, but this just seemed to make things worse and she flew at me in a rage, grabbing handfuls of my hair and swiping at me with her talons. As I tried to back away, she grabbed my face, sticking her fingers in my eyes. Instinctively I tried to remove the foreign objects blocking my view, which I did by wrenching her fingers backwards. Only later (when she returned from casualty) did I find out that I had managed to break 4 of them! Needless to say her attack on me was never noted by the headmaster, despite my cries of ‘but she started it, Sir’, but I came very close to being suspended, luckily avoiding it by the skin of my teeth. My parents grounded me for 6 weeks and I never did get my pen bangle back :’( We weren’t really friends again after that, but I do still see her every now and again when I go home. She still lives in the village we grew up in, has never married but has 4 kids and works as a barmaid in the local working mens club. Oh, what sweet justice… Muhahaha
December 15th, 2003 17:44
Oh my god - you people were bad! The worst I managed was to throw a plastic seaside bucket at my sister. Sadly it hit her in the eye and has given her a scar-for-life (never allowed to live it down). The thing I feel most guilty about was standing next to my mum when she was on the phone and mimick her until she cried cos I wouldn’t stop.
December 15th, 2003 18:49
Can I just mention that Kate is evil ;)
December 15th, 2003 19:08
“I do find running over people’s feet is immensely therapeutic when they won’t move… ”
Um, running the weight of a toddler over someone’s feet is one thing, a sixteen stone (230lb) woman in a wheelchair is another…
But it’s tempting!
December 15th, 2003 20:04
“Um, running the weight of a toddler over someone’s feet is one thing, a sixteen stone (230lb) woman in a wheelchair is another…”
All the more reason to do it.. it’ll be a lesson they’ll remember ;) Alternatively, just go for a few bruised ankles.
Remember, to be authentic, put on a falsely cheery voice “oh I’m SO sorry, I thought you’d moved” as you do it, then they don’t really feel able to get cross…
December 15th, 2003 20:11
Age 4 and a half, taking a running jump off the sofa onto the outstretched shin of my two and a half year sister playing innocently on the lounge floor.
*Snap*
December 15th, 2003 21:58
My brother had several severe allergies as a child, especially to pollen, bee stings and cut grass. We lived in an apartment behind a funeral home. One day, my friend and I rummaged through the dumpster in the alley, gathered as many discarded funeral arrangements as we could carry, and filled his room with them. The topped was a huge cross of lillies we placed on his bed.
December 16th, 2003 01:10
I am not sure if this is the worst thing I did - it made my mother very, very mad though - when I was very young ( 4 years old) she did my hair in ‘ringlets’ (ala Shirley Temple) and I hated them. So, I got the scissors one day, grabbed each ringlet as close to my head as I could and cut each one off. Once done, I hid the hair in the heating vents thinking she wouldn’t know. Hmm, she somehow found out and was very cross with me.
December 16th, 2003 18:09
I’m afraid I threw Keith Bunn off the stage during a school rehearsal of A Christmas Carol.
He broke his arm in the fall, and I was banished from the stage forever..
December 16th, 2003 19:21
Purely in the interests of science, you understand, when I was about 4, I made my 2.5 year old sister eat moth balls. She had the last laugh though, since she got to stay in hospital for three days and eat ice-cream, which we were never allowed. My parents never found out that I had encouraged the consumption of the moth balls, and always thought that I just failed to stop her (and I was already in quite enough trouble for that)