The Short Shower and the Betrayal

I want to do something different for this post and take you down memory lane. This story involves my sister and co-blogger, Mary, a shower, and the first truly shitty thing I ever did.

When we were kids, certain things were forbidden for reasons I never understood. However, I was too young to make the valid arguments needed to have my mom change her mind. Next best thing? Waiting until she was in the shower to do them. You may be asking yourself, “What kinds of things were you forbidden to do?” These things:

    1. Taking the cushions off the couch and jumping on them. Excuse me but, how in the hell else was I supposed to avoid the lava?

    2. Eating handfuls of butter out of the tub. If I was Paula Deen’s kid, this would have probably been ok.

    3. Pouring sugar into a cup and drinking it like water – I have no explanation for this…

Under normal circumstances, I would do something very small every time my mom got in the shower, so it would be unnoticeable (like taking a quick swig of this bright pink medicine that tasted amazing or stealing 3-4 Oreos). However, one fateful day when I was about 7, I decided to push the limits.

I’ll never forget the shower turning on, and me racing to the refrigerator and pulling out the butter tub – I had at least 8 handfuls. Next was the sugar. No glass for me on that day – I remember pouring it directly into my mouth. People let me tell you – it was pure euphoria. I was on top of the world. Unfortunately, it was also this day that I got a little too cocky.

After the sugar, I grabbed some Dunkaroos from the pantry and headed into the living room for the couch cushions. I yelled for Mary to help me take them off – and Mary being herself – asked no questions and helped me rip them off. We were wildly jumping and having a legitimately awesome time. I was pleased with my genius plan and remember laughing so hard I was having trouble swallowing the Dunkaroos I was trying to eat at the same time – until I noticed something horribly disturbing – the shower wasn’t running anymore. This meant my mom was out of it already and could come out at anytime and see what we’d done. Fear gripped me. I looked at my unsuspecting sister who was still merrily jumping away and I knew I had a decision to make – quickly clean this up and risk getting caught, or save myself.

I’d like to tell you that I frantically got the cushions back on before my mom came out of her room that day, and that I didn’t throw the rest of my Dunkaroos up in the air in a terror-panic, scattering them everywhere. I’d also like to tell you that while those Dunkaroos were still in the air, I didn’t madly bolt into my room at 100mph and into my closet to hide. I’d really like to tell you that. Unfortunately, it wasn’t opposite day.

My mom did come out minutes later and saw the destruction – and it was a double-whammy – pantry theft and cushion displacement. As I sat in my closet, sobbing, with butter and sugar still on my face, I listened to my mom unleashing fury on poor Mary. This was the first time in my life I felt true guilt. What made me even more pathetic was the fact that I was the oldest – the captain – and my executive decision involved running away like a little bitch.

To this day, I still feel guilty and regret what I did. So to my sister, Mary, I want to offer a formal apology and the best gift I could ever think of giving someone:

Eggs

Again – my bad.

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One comment

  1. I Have Heard This Story One Thousand Times, And This Is The Best Version. Love It!

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