Just a little about me....

My kids used to love to hear fairy tales, but lets face it, fairies don't have a long life expectantcy in my house so lately they've been asking for 'when you were a kid' stories.

As a child I was mostly quiet in public.  My report cards through grade school always ended with the same comment... "too quiet".  I think that comment led my parents to hold little faith in the opinions of teachers because I was anything but quiet at home.

I remember the first time I got hauled into the pricipals office.  A little boy had gotten stung by a bee.  So why was I sent to the office?  Well, apparently my name was brought up when the boy was asked why he was trying to catch the bee in his hand.  I was a sort of school-yard celebrity because I could catch bees in my hand and I'd hold them to the other kids ears and let them hear them buzzing.  This one little boy decided that he wanted to try it but when he did, he got stung.  So I was being interrogated as to why I made him catch the bee knowing that it was dangerous.  I just looked at the boy and stated that 'he was stupid, I didn't tell him to squish the bee, they only sting if you squish them!'.  I was forbidden to catch anymore bees from that day on, and I was also forbidden from calling my classmates 'stupid' infront of the principal, thus making them cry again like the stupid crybaby that they are.

One of my favorite stories include a crab apple tree and a basset hound.  Strange combination, I know, but I swear this one is true.  I was walking down behind our home in Navy housing in Groton Connecticut, there was a fenced in field off to the side and I used to love to climb the crab apple tree and watch the horses in the pasture.  Well, I was just about at the clump of trees when I heard this gosh awful baying.  I turned around and this huge basset hound was running full speed right at me!  Terrified, I ran to the nearest tree and scrambled up as fast as my chubby little legs would let me.  And... I kid you not, this dog scrambled up behind me!  For a second I just sat there watching in total disbelief as this big fat dog with stumps for legs climbed closer and closer.  Then, with a scream I jumped down.  Suddenly something hit me like a ton of bricks.  The dog had jumped down on top of me.  I scrambled up from under it and ran! I guess the impact had knocked the wind out of the dog because it didn't follow me, and of course it was gone when I dragged my family out to check out my story.  The lesson I learned from this episode is that there is no such thing as 'can't', just 'hasn't yet'.  For instance, the statement 'dogs can't climb trees' should actually be worded 'a dog hasn't yet been witnessed climbing a tree' therefore leaving the possibility open that it might actually happen, as it did to me.  

Soon after that my baby sister became the victim of my experimental humor.  She was about 5 years younger and was always tagging along, getting in the way and tattling.  Once, while visiting my grandparents I was instructed against my wishes to take her along with my cousins and I when we went to explore the sugar cane field.  As we walked through the tall cane I fumed, and tried to come up with a way to ditch the little brat.  My cousin was up ahead telling a story about how wild pigs sometimes come through the cane field.  Suddenly it hit me, it was brilliant!  I stooped down by the roots of a cane clump and called the others over.  As we peered down at the moss covered ground my baby sister asked what it was.  I looked up at her and said in my best 'Twilight Zone' voice... 'PIG PEE!'  That did it!  Everyone screamed and scattered!  I knew exactly where I was going and enjoyed a good laugh with my cousins farther into the field.  It was short lived though for when we returned to my grandmother's yard my parents were waiting for me with the news that my baby sister had returned home... alone... and that I was now grounded.  I think the only times I have ever been grounded, with the exception of maybe once or twice, involved my baby sister.  When we went back to Hawaii last summer for our first ever family reunion one of my kids, meeting their Auntie Beenie and the star of many of my stories for the first time, asked if she remembered how rotten I was to her.  She looked me square in the eye and said 'She was my hero, she might have picked on me alot, but she was always there to protect me when I needed her'.  Oh my gosh, I never knew!  I moved over and whispered to the kids.. 'Lets not remind her of any of those stories, okay?'.

Watching my children growing I see that their lives will be rich with memories to share with their children.  Sometimes I look at them and think, 'I am so lucky to have such precious children', and other times I think 'Oh my gosh, I was never that bad, was I?'  Well, the jury is out and after the reunion I think it has been decided that I was infact worse than my own children.  Hmmm, I don't know about that, I demand a recount!