My mom was telling me about hitler and the fact he was german.
I called one of my mom's german friends a "Nazi" to his face.
A couple of days ago I was over at my good buddy Ron's house, we were just sitting at his kitchen table having coffee when all of a sudden his 8 year old Son, from the living room, yells...
"Get me some juice, you dirty sluts"
Both of our jaws dropped and we could NOT stop laughing. Fortunately his Son couldn't hear us, and when Ron went in to ask him why he would say something like that his Son claimed to have not known what it actually meant.
I was about 9 or 10, and my aunt had just had a baby. She was around 40, so there were some complications with the pregnancy. On the drive to her house to see her, my mom commented to my dad that my Grandma had said, to my aunt's face, "We'd bring a present, but given the circumstances..."
So, when we got to the house, we knocked on the door and she let us in. I noticed that we didn't have a present, and there was only one way to rectify this glaring error. Yes, I told her that we didn't bring her a present because we weren't sure whether her son would live or die.
Everyone went silent, and it was really awkward. On the ride home, my mom explained to me what I had told my aunt. I felt like a piece of shit for about a day and a half, and I still feel bad about it in hindsight.
At 4, my godson came to visit me in the city. He lives in a small, small town, about 8 hours from civilization. We were at the mall and when we got to the cash were served by an African American lady. He looked at her and said "Oh boy! You have a good tan lady!" She laughed but I thought I was going to die.
When I was around 9, on the bus one of my friends started going on about emotional things regarding his family that I couldn't be bothered listening to because we'd just wrapped up a trip to an awesome theme park, and I was still in a good mood. He mentioned how he hated being an only child and that his little sister died at birth. I did not hear any of this and made an absent snicker when he was done in order to make it seem like I was listening. WHOOPS! Dude busted out in tears, punched me in the shoulder, and whined loudly to our other friend that I snickered at his little sister's death. Some of the other kids near us on the bus gave me angry looks.
My little brother and I were fighting one day. My mother told us to stop it or we would get time out. I told her if she would have kept her legs closed everything would be fine. I got time out anyways. I was about 7, and wanted to be an only child. I still tell her that to this day.
ohh gosh this still makes ME embarassed after like 15 years. I was at a tennis camp at my country club, your typical WASP nest. They had some guy come in and give us an anti-drug speech (Thanks Nancy Reagan for giving us a heads up on the good shit). At some part in his speech he mentioned that ciggarettes were a drug. I of course put 2 and 2 together, My dad was chain smoker so I raised my hand and exclaimed "MY DAD DOES DRUGS!" Of course everybody's parents were there. I forgot about it until my parents told me when I was about 20 that for years after that people thought my parents were cokeheads.
My maternal grandmother died when I was young, probably 4 years old. A few months later, I was in the car with my mom and and aunt. They were laughing about something when I blurted out, "How can you laugh when your mom just died?"
It was months after the fact, so WTF?
When I was probably around four or so, my mom and I were at church. She made me wear these awful frilly dresses with tights, and my tights were riding up. I was picking at them, and my mom whispered for me to stop pulling at my underwear. I shouted on the top of my lungs, during the concecration (the quietest part of the mass), "BUT MOOOOM, I'M CROTCHBOUND." Not necessarily devastating, but damn, was my mother embarassed.
When I was about 3 or so, we were on a long trip, and we'd gone into a Dairy Queen. There happened to be a Vietnamese woman there, with about 3 kids. She was talking to them in Vietnamese, which, to my three year old ears, sounded like "QUING WAN ZHONG GWAN WRAH UR ZHAI GWRANG..."
So when my parents' backs were turned, I confidently strolled up to the Vietnamese family, and said "WING GRANG QUAN ZHI UR WAI GWONG - " at which point my parents rushed over and grabbed me away. The entire Vietnamese family was laughing about it, although my own family was mortified. When I heard about it a few years later, my response was, "Wow, I wonder what I said to them."
One time, in first grade, we were to write a story about how important it is to make everyone feel welcome. I wrote a darling story about a little colored kid that couldn't get any friend. Then one day, he found a magic soap, which washed the black away. Suddenly, everyone wanted to be friends with him.
Our school counselor had a field day.
When I was 5 I had two cowboy hats, one white and one black, so naturally I gave one to my little sister, told her to go in the kitchen, then wandered in and said "What's this? A black person? In MY saloon? No!" I didn't really understand what was going on, but our babysitter was not best impressed. Obviously I wasn't trying to play MYSELF, but rather to employ my playpowers to replicate the actions of a person who would have been racist in that period of history. She just didn't understand.
When I was like 8, I had to make a birthday card for a kid (the son of a family friend) whose birthday party we were going to - he was turning 6, I think. I'd recently learned that adults liked it when I told them they looked a lot younger than they were, so I made a card that said, "I can't believe you're 6, you don't look older than 3!"
My mom told me it was insulting and got mad at me. I didn't understand - I was just trying to be nice.
When I was six years old my friend had introduced me to the phrase "humping girls". I had no idea what it meant though.
Later that evening, my mom asked me and my brother what we wanted to do and I yelled out "LET'S GO HUMP SOME GIRLS!". Boy howdy was my mom surprised!
When I was about 9 or so I was at an aunt's wedding. She was on her fourth or fifth husband at that point and as everyone was leaving the church, throwing confetti and all that, I slapped my hands together and exlaimed "Right! Now thats done, when's the divorce?" out loud.
Im still proud of that.
My sister once got me a book from the mall. She had saved up for it, and was so happy to give it to me. I was in a pissy mood and wanted something else (I think one of those "Hypercolor" shirts that changed colors with heat. As she gave it to me, I remarked, "It's not what I wanted, but I guess it's okay."
I heard her crying in her room later that night. Nowadays, my sister and I have a very, very close relationship... and I still feel bad about that one. I was never, by any means, a spoiled child; I was especially grateful for anything anyone gave me after that moment.
Speaking of feeling bad about such things, I remember one better. My sister is six years older than I am. So, just as I was becoming aware of differences between boys and girls, she was hitting that wonderful time in a woman's life. She, also, had a new beau, who she really had the hots for. One night, as they came home after a date, she told me to leave them alone (I was being the typical younger brother.) I replied without even understanding: "Well then stop leaving those gross bloody things in the toilet!"
She started bawling. I don't think she ever saw that guy again.
Yes, it's the perfect form for surviving a car crash. But it's also the perfect form for so much more, like surviving the trauma of reading any news headline in 2016.
It's just a little confusing, is all.
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