Growing up my sister and I didn’t have imaginary friends, we had imaginary villains. They looked like giant Ken dolls; pre-synthetic hair, and they were all called "Macho".
My mother instilled in her children a fear of using public bathrooms. She made it seem like a bacteria would eat me from the inside out if I so much as exposed my bare bottom near a public restroom. It got so bad sometimes I would go the whole day at school without relieving myself.
One day during an art club meeting, Mr. Mac asked me to get some construction paper out of the art supply room. But I also really had to pee. What to do? What to do? My poor judgment convinced me to get the paper first and hold it out until I got home.
Bad Idea, I stretch to grab the construction paper off the shelf and lost control of my bladder. I peed all over the floor. Yup, I was that kid-the one that smelled like pee. In a feeble attempt to cover up my embarrassment I used some of the construction paper and left a trail of moist ripped urine smelling dots all over the floor.
Best part is, my sister did the same exact thing in the same exact room… and she tried to cover it up the same exact way.
I had a “Ralphy” when I was younger. For those of you who don’t know what that means, it’s what you call facial hair whiskers on women. It was really noticeable. One day on the bus ride home, right before I was at my house, an elementary school boy yelled out, “That girl has a mustache! I thought only boys had a mustache…” and he was genuinely confused. I’m assuming that moment altered his perception of reality forever… good the little fucker deserved it for calling me out like that!
I once jumped butt naked over a dead chicken lit on fire in order to exorcise 3 ghosts that apparently were sexually assaulting me while I slept. And yes, I had to jump 3 times.
I still remember one of the first moments I transcended from child to awkward teenage hormonal gunk. And it was all because of a girl named Roxy.
She was a patrol at my elementary school and I really did look up to her! She was always very kind to me. She was one of the few older kids that would talk to me like a human being and not like a child.
One day being lead by foolish peer pressure and the desire to fit in I jumped on top of a toilet seat and dropped a huge spit ball over to the stall next to me. A thud and a shriek later I knew I hit my target. But to my dismay when I peaked over the top to mock my victim it was Roxy looking right back at me in horror.
All she could do was stare back. Her eyes were searching mine for a viable excuse. Hildi couldn’t have been the one to do this one… maybe she walked in after the culprit left. No, not really. It was me-all me. I had to tip that cup over.
To add insult to injury, she was caught at one of the most vulnerable moments anyone could be messed with-while her pants are around her ankles. Right then I ate the apple and one more layer of innocence was ripped off me.
In an effort to torture me and indulge in the stereotypical behavior of older siblings, I was taunted with story of trash can retrievals and I was told I’m Freddie Mercury’s love child. You see I had really buckteeth… and a Ralphy…
After a very sweet romantic date, we were about to seal the night with the perfect kiss. Suddenly we find ourselves not alone. My dad scuffles out of the house to greet us, half asleep and only wearing his underwear. He lifts his arms up in the air in a pleading motion.
I skip the kiss, jump out of the car, run pass him, and into the house - mortified! My dad wears bikini cut undies!