What's the funniest thing that you did as a child?

One day a couple of friends and myself were going to a concert, and my buddy's dad was driving us. His car broke down on the highway, so we were all standing around outside on the side of the road. I thought it would be fun if I pretended to give my friend CPR(not to the mouth, just pumping up and down on his chest as he laid on the ground). Yea, we noticed a lot of people slowing down and looking. Next thing you know, an emergency vehicle comes bombing up the highway driving in the wrong direction in the break down lane, a couple police motorcyles and an ambulance came too...we acted like we had no idea, and they must have had the wrong section.

When I was eleven I murdered my mother's boyfriend and cut off one of her breasts with the carving knife.

I was a really tiny little kid, but my first night in Juvenile lock up I raped a huge 17 year old and cut his throat. For the next seven years while I was locked up no one fooled with me.

My mother found out that her boyfriend was seeing another woman as well and although sorry she lost a breast, realized she should have listened to me when I tried to tell her. Years later at family gatherings the parents, grandparents and later the next generation of nieces nephews and cousins gather round the Thanksgiving table to hear the story that no one seems to tire of. The sound of sparkling laughter and full throated hearty guffaws are enough to warm the coldest heart.

Mom has gone on to heaven now, but we know she's looking down on us every year as we enjoy fellowship and laugh and laugh over this hilarious childhood incident.

I love the tabasco sauce débâcle, eoe... did they come back to complain.

That seems like one of those things that pins a family together, Bear...

I'll have to think awhile about this one: I was quiet and contemplative as a child, with an overly active imagination--- there was a hidden reason for everything. I did get into some mad things though; I phoned up a mortgage company, assumed a Scottish voice, and said that I was Helen McBride, 21, and that I wanted a loan of £15,000 post haste. (This was when I imagined that Switzerland was a utopia, at the age of about nine; I thought that I'd get away to there.) When they asked me for my details, etc, I said 'phone me back in a few hours; I have to go to a disco.' I also liked to look in the International codes part of the phone book and imagined talking to the people in all those far-off places. I discreetly called a few of these numbers- my Mother says that I phoned Georgia USSR, St. Petersburg, Mali, Peru, the Phillippines and many more places... I said that the TV told me to do it, or something; it was a competition.

Also, we owned a pub when I was younger, and on halloween, I told one of the barmen- this nutcase Liverpudlian who lived with us for about six years in our cellars- that it was tradition for a bartender to have some kind of costume. I had not bargained that the costume that he would choose was an impromptu black 'cape' and GLOSS paint from head to foot. But I was mostly sweet and discerning .

The 'beauty' of that nasty little scheme was, with a bag full of candy, there was no way of knowing where the gum had come from.

That's inspired! Your parents never caught you using the tabasco sauce?

Nope. They never, ever, EVER knew. I did it only that one year. By the next year, I'd grown up a little and realized how awful it was.

Then there was the third time in kindergarten...

I was standing in line waiting to get into the classroom one day, when I noticed an iron smell. I had the biggest bloody nose of my life. The girl behind me also noticed and told me to get the teacher, but I was way too cool to go whining to some teacher. So I easily solved the problem by periodically wiping my nose on the kid in front of me. I proved once and for all that I didn't need anybody else to help me, I was absolutely self-sufficient.

Thank god I learned otherwise.

Yuck!!!

In first grade, right after I'd learned my address and phone number. (I'd never needed to know them because everybody seemed to know where I lived.) I invited my entire class to my birthday party. My poor mother got her invitation a few hours before the afternoon event was to occur and then 30 kids bearing gifts showed up.
The party was held in september, my birthday is in May.

I used to parade around the house naked every time my siblings had their friends over.

I just remembered one...

For some strange reason, to this day I don't know why, my brother took my father's pole diggers. Basically (and over simplified), it was a device that had two shovels attached in a scissor sort of way, it was used to dig large, deep holes that poles could easily fit into. Anyway, my brother took these diggers and dug a six foot hole in my backyard. He leaves to go work on something with pa somewhere else and I come looking for them.

This was also the time that I was trying to teach myself not to stare at my feet when I walked (an unbelievable set of coincidences, I know). So I sauntered over here, I waddled over there, and plop! I fell into the hole yet managed to stay above ground due to some useful elbows.

Fearing that if I fell in all the way (I was only four feet tall) I would never get out, I sat there for quite a long time. Sure, I tried to yell, but nobody was withing earshot. I sat for half of an hour with my elbows digging into the sharp gravel and my brow being baked by the arizona sun until my father came to laugh at me for another ten.

I finally got out, vowed to swiftly seek vengeance, and took a bath.