Things that got you in trouble as a Child

told my dad that she was his problem and not mine, once.


only once...

When I was in 6th grade I was talking to my classmates about the Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings. I hadn't read the books, but they had. I knew about the books, though, because my older siblings had read them. I wanted to sound like I had soI started talking about the storyline and characters. The teacher overheard me talking about Dildo (instead of Bilbo) and thought I was actually talking about a dildo. He sent me to the principal. He sucked as a teacher.

I never got on trouble in school, but I did get in trouble out of school--on the street. Fights mostly. (I had and have a short fuse.)

I beat up a little girl who lived in the next building. Our parents were friends. Why did we fight? She was born in February. I was born in November. She maintained that since Feb comes before Nov, she was older than me. I tried to explain it to her. I was born in the previous year. Nope. She was older. I tried to explain it again. Not getting through. Blew up and beat her up. Didn't get in trouble for this.

The next time I beat her up, I did get in trouble. First the reason for the fight. She maintained that Lincoln was the president of the United States. Nope, it's Truman. Lincoln. Truman. Lincoln is dead. No he's not. Whammo. This girl was considerably bigger than me. This time I bit her. That got me in trouble. Her father complained to my father that I was some kinda cannibal. My father didn't like that. They had a major argument but did not come to blows. I never beat her up again--but I really, really wanted to. Life is full of its little frustrations.

Gawd, I'd beat her up for that too.

jesus, that girl was a moron, and deserved to be beaten.

In tenth grade I pissed off Sister Benigna so badly she punched me in the face so hard she knocked me out of my desk. It was worth it. I don't have time or space to list all the stuff i got in trouble for. It's hard to recall NOT being in trouble for one thing or another.

punched in the face by a nun.

that is so ******* cool.

A few more or less innocent things pop up from when I was wee.

* I played with my dads tools a lot when I was a toddler. My third Christmas I asked for -- and received -- a "gweasy watchet." Also took a ball peen hammer to the fish tank, with mixed results. The whoosh of water was entertaining. The plecostomus dying on the carpte not so much, though it didn't occur to me to put him back in.

* At a similarly wee age, I was hanging out on the hood of the big Ford pickup. I couldn't have got there by myself, so it must have been a very misguided attempt to put me somewhere I wouldn't get into any trouble (or fall). I broke the radio antenna off at the base.

* Caught in a autistic-like trance staring at the pattern of raindrops on river-rock gravel on the school playground, I missed the recess bell ringing. My best friend tugged on my jacket to bring me inside, and I turned around and delivered a vicious and very bloody uppercut to the nose. Much consternation and concern at home, understandably. (Very recently I've scored quite high on an online test for autism/Asperger's -- and I know there was some talk about having me tested for something or other when I didn't perform well early in school years; given later performance, I blame lack of interest.)

As I got older, it was the typical broken curfew/alcohol/pot/speeding ticket kind of stuff (yawn).

You got busted after curfew for speeding, while drunk and smoking reefer?


Cool.

I never got into trouble.

I was my parents' pride and joy - I never caused them a moment of heart or grief.

anything bad in the early years all seemed to revolve around Greens Drug Store.

I was caught stealing candy from next to the register (I would have gotten away with it if I hadn't made the poor choice of trying to eat the candy while sitting next to my mother in the car - IDIOT!) She made me go back in and return the candy. I wanted to just go back in and wander around a moment and come back out, but I figured she'd check up on me. She didn't - IDIOT!

While left in the when my mother went to shop, I pretended to drive, mashing on the brakes and accelerator, wearing down the battery or flooding the engine or something. I think my mother was just jerking me around pretending she couldn't start the car.

Mother gave me a dollar to go buy a soda at Greens lunch counter, to keep me out of her hair. The soda was probably 15 cents or something. When the counter girl gave me the change I carefully considered what I should leave as a tip. I was probably around 6 years old.
I thought a nickel seems seemed really cheap ass, so did a dime. I ended up leaving the entire 85 cents, as that seemed quite magnanimous. My mother didn't feel that way when she asked for the change.
I had to go back and get the 85 cents, thinking it was horrible the poor girl wouldn't get a tip.

I was pretending to be an airplane in Greens, using the aisles as landing/take off strips. I looked up just as I was about to become airborne, and saw there was a glass jewelry counter directly in my flight path. About 6 inches in front of my face.

Living on a farm when I was growing up, I got in so much trouble involving the animals on the farm. A few that come to mind:

We had a bunch of pine trees up by the house. Me and my friend (I rarely ever did anything alone. I always convinced my best friend that things were gonna end up awesome) were throwing green pine cones at each other instead of picking them up like we were told to. We were bored and a bright idea came to me. I took a rather large green pine cone and walked down to one of our fields. Standing in the field was one of our mules we had. He was rather nice and would let you do just about anything to him. My friend and I walked around petting him and giving him some feed. Well I walked around to his back side and lifted his tail. I placed the pine cone at the base of his tail and let it down. Then I smacked him on the butt as hard as I could. This surprised him, and mules are known to tuck their tales down tight when scared and running. This had the desired effect and sent the mule off running around crazy.

Me and my friend were laughing pretty hard as the mule ran all over the field braying and bucking trying to dislodge the pine cone. My father showed up out of no where. He looked at me and said this "I know what you did, now get it out." Took us about 2 hours to get the mule in the barn. and semi calmed down. When I walked up on him to lift his tail, he bucked, catching me square in the chest and sending me back about 10 feet. The wind was gone from me and boy did it take some time to catch my breath. We finally got the pine cone out. When I got home I had two hoof prints in my chest. I didn't get in trouble, I guess my father figured that was enough punishment.

Number 2: Me and my best friend (again) had just gotten pump up BB guns. We got tired of shooting each other, and we weren't brave enough to go past 2 or 3 pumps when hitting each other. So we starting finding other things to shoot with the higher number pumps.

We were running around the farm and when we came to the pond on the other side of this berm and separated from the other pasture by a fence. It was our cow and bull pasture. Well one of our bulls was drinking water with his back to us. Me and my friend hid behind the berm and pumped our guns up. We got them to the magic number of ten (we were told never to go above that number). The pressure was to much for us to do alone so we had to help each other with the higher pumps. We didn't know what we were going to shoot on the bull, we just knew we were going to shoot him. Then we saw our target. There between his hind legs. Hanging almost to the ground was his big bull sack. (Yes I know horrible horrible little boy I was). We giggle and laughed and nodded to each other that it was the perfect target. My friend counted it down from three and we shot. I have no idea if we both hit, or if only one of us hit the target, but upon impact the bull screamed this bray that could be heard anywhere I am sure, jumped straight up in the air and landed in the pond. He came up snorting and spitting water and well we just died laughing, rolled over on our backs, and who was there. Yep, my father. Always seemed to be where the trouble was. That wasn't a fun day for either me or my best friend.

God, you were a stinker!

pretty funny though.

Gotta love your dad!

Wish i knew how to be in the right place at the right time like did.

My parents and I were traveling to Las Vegas one time in a big boat of a Cadillac. (72) It was a beauty! White leather seats, fins, lady ornament on the hood, etc.

Well, there we are tooting along down the road, parents in the front seat talking and me in the back seat with the dog. I had a really cool Bic 'erasable' pen that wrote incredibly well on a stack of paper and decided it might be fun to draw doodles on the back of the seat. Well I was so quietly entertained parents didn't even realize what I was doing it until we pulled over at a rest stop. (do they have those anymore?) Stepdad went to get the dogs leash to take him for a walk and saw my beautiful artwork....

ummm yeah, ....big trouble! Thankfully, the pen ink came off with rubbing alcohol!

Almost forgot about the time I was playing with matches and set the bathroom on fire. Flames up the wall. I managed to put the fire out--no mean feat.

I called my mother to tell her what happened. I was close to hysterical. She told me not to tell my father who would get home before her. Not tell my father? The house was filled with smoke. The shower curtain was melted to the bathroom wall.

Amazingly enough, I was not in trouble for this. My parents felt that I had suffered enough and learned my lesson. They were right. I never did that again.

The only time I really, really got into trouble was when I said something fresh. Whammo.

Ha! I did that, too, Roberta! Except in the kitchen ...
I had to get my mother out of bed to put it out.



Once again, ditto.
In my family home the parents were to be treated as sacred. No talking back accepted.
So when I was considered to be out of line on such things (quite a few times, I couldn't help myself) , it was "Wait till your father get's home & hears what you said!"
And, when that happened, it was never nice, I can tell you!

when i was about 6 or 7 my mother invited a group of boys around for my birthday party. about 8 of us in all when you include my older brother.

Food was served in our dining room at the table. Desert was neopolitain icecream and jelly. It was serverd in a bowl along with long flexible plastic spoons with some kind of ornament on the handle end.
whilst my mother was out of the room we discovered these spoons made amazingly good catapults with either icecream or jelly as the shot load. 8 little boys firing icecream and jelly at each other across the dining table can make quite a mess.

I never had another birthday party again