You Might Not Want to Have Children After Reading This
I was a total brat as a child - Just ask my brothers. So in celebration of #throwbackThursday I asked some of my favorite blogger ladies to share their stories about being a total turd as a child.
Enjoy! :)
Enjoy! :)
Jill @ Girlfriend Jill |
When I was younger I was such a brat, so it is hard for me to pick just one memory. Growing up my best friend's mom called me "hellion" because I was such a trouble maker.
The youngest bratty memory I have was pulling the fire alarm in the mall dressing room with my mom, grandmother, and aunt all inside. The entire place had to be evacuated. My mom said she had never been so embarrassed.
When I would go shopping with my mom I used to scream if I did not get something I wanted. My mom would try everything to get me to stop having an all out temper tantrum. Eventually she said I would start screaming "child abuse" at the top of my lungs and would be forced to leave her buggy and exit the store with me with everyone staring.
And finally I sprayed my baby sister in the eyes with Windex when I was four because she was annoying me. I still remember the spanking I got.
My parents often say that I was an angel baby, and then I turned three. The next, ohhhh, 12 years or so were a smidge rocky here and there, and I had more than my fair share of bratty moments. The earliest I can remember? I was four years old, and my younger brother and I were being watched by an inattentive babysitter. (Actually, let's blame this bratty story on her instead.) Kids love their toys, right? Well, we kiddos made it our mission to bring every single big wheels bike, turtle sandbox, and piece of chalk out of the garage and into the street. At ten p.m. My parents were less than pleased when they rolled up to an apparent late night yard sale and toddlers walking around in Dad's ski gear.
Last but not least...
I'm really hoping that my mother's curse - "I hope your children turn out just like you someday!" - never comes to pass. I was a holy terror. However, most people (my parents included) had no idea, because I was pretty sneaky and good at covering my tracks.
One Sunday when I was about nine, my friend Jessica and I got a little rowdy while waiting for our Sunday school teacher to arrive. She wouldn't let me into the classroom. Jessica tugged on one side of the door, while I pulled on the other. We were giggling away when suddenly the door handle snapped off into my hands, and I stumbled back a few steps.
So what did Jessica and I do? Wait for the teacher to arrive and humbly accept our punishment? Nope. We discovered that the slots on the air conditioning vents were flexible, shoved the door handle in between two slots, and bent everything back into shape.
When the teacher arrived and asked what happened we lied, of course. I told him it was like that when we got there and never talked about it again.
What crazy stunts did you pull as a kid? Was anyone just a complete angel?
The youngest bratty memory I have was pulling the fire alarm in the mall dressing room with my mom, grandmother, and aunt all inside. The entire place had to be evacuated. My mom said she had never been so embarrassed.
When I would go shopping with my mom I used to scream if I did not get something I wanted. My mom would try everything to get me to stop having an all out temper tantrum. Eventually she said I would start screaming "child abuse" at the top of my lungs and would be forced to leave her buggy and exit the store with me with everyone staring.
And finally I sprayed my baby sister in the eyes with Windex when I was four because she was annoying me. I still remember the spanking I got.
Beth @ Hang On, Honey |
My parents often say that I was an angel baby, and then I turned three. The next, ohhhh, 12 years or so were a smidge rocky here and there, and I had more than my fair share of bratty moments. The earliest I can remember? I was four years old, and my younger brother and I were being watched by an inattentive babysitter. (Actually, let's blame this bratty story on her instead.) Kids love their toys, right? Well, we kiddos made it our mission to bring every single big wheels bike, turtle sandbox, and piece of chalk out of the garage and into the street. At ten p.m. My parents were less than pleased when they rolled up to an apparent late night yard sale and toddlers walking around in Dad's ski gear.
And what's a bratty kid story without a good "runaway" anecdote? In fifth grade my parents decided that three Backstreet Boys concerts were enough, and wouldn't buy me a ticket to the new tour. (How dare they?) I promptly told my parents that they were the meanest parents in the whole wide would, informed them that I was officially running away, and walked right out the front door. I applaud my mama to this day for letting me go along my merry way, because she knew that I'd only get so far before I remembered just how good I had it. I got about half a mile to a gazebo next to my elementary school, sat around for a little bit, then got hungry. Imagine the smirk on her face as I rang that doorbell. (Oh yeah, she locked me out too. Way to make me beg for it.)
Amanda @ Living In Another Language |
First of all, can we take the time to appreciate the fact that my sister (in red) strongly resembles Ralphie's little brother Randy from 'A Christmas Story?' That's what happens to ya when you live in Alaska during winter.
The downfall of my childhood occurred at about the same time. I remember vividly the snow that had fallen on the ground, and my mother trying as hard as she could to control our car as we drove up the icy mountain.
We had gone to the grocery store when I saw it. The bane of all mischievous children with sweet tooths (sweet teeth? I'm terrible at this kind of thing). The candy tower. I couldn't help myself, and grabbed a piece within reach, a neapolitan taffy. I had full intentions of paying for it with the 10 cents that was rubbing a whole in my pocket. However, as soon as my mother reached the cash register (she had no idea what was going on) I chickened out, and stuffed the candy far into my pocket.
I didn't have sense enough to wait until I was home and in privacy to eat it. No...I started to eat it in the front seat of our car. Of course my mom saw it and flipped out on me in front of my other two siblings. Embarrassing. AAND...I had to go back to the store and apologize to the manager with the half eaten piece of candy. It wasn't even that good.
Bonnie @ A Compass Rose |
There was one year in my life where I attended four different schools as is the life of a military brat. In the middle of that time we were living momentarily on base in Lakenheath, England. We were leaving to spend a few months in the US for my dad's work before relocating to Naples, Italy. Transitions can be tricky at times for families and my parents were making sure they still had time together one one one. On one such occasion they left my younger sister and I with a babysitter. Off the bat I did not like her because I thought she was too young. I was eight at the time and I am just going to guess that my baby sitter was probably around fourteen. I ended up deciding that instead of going to bed I would be a brat and hide. I had a very slim closet with sliding doors and I crept inside with my pillows and covered myself up with my blanket. Thats where I stayed until my parents returned, while my babysitter freaked out that I was missing. Needless to say she never babysat again.
*Photo attached is from when I was five or six on Halloween in my Laura Ashley dress as Goldilocks. I had my white baby bear in the pumpkin bucket.
Last but not least...
Me - Patricia |
One Sunday when I was about nine, my friend Jessica and I got a little rowdy while waiting for our Sunday school teacher to arrive. She wouldn't let me into the classroom. Jessica tugged on one side of the door, while I pulled on the other. We were giggling away when suddenly the door handle snapped off into my hands, and I stumbled back a few steps.
So what did Jessica and I do? Wait for the teacher to arrive and humbly accept our punishment? Nope. We discovered that the slots on the air conditioning vents were flexible, shoved the door handle in between two slots, and bent everything back into shape.
When the teacher arrived and asked what happened we lied, of course. I told him it was like that when we got there and never talked about it again.
...........
What crazy stunts did you pull as a kid? Was anyone just a complete angel?
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