no it's not, it bloody hurt it did!!
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no it's not, it bloody hurt it did!!
for you, LOL ^_^Quote:
Originally Posted by Tricky Boy
When I was about 1yr old my mom was working and left us with a baby sitter for the day. When she came to pick us up, I was no where to be seen. She asked the baby sitter where I was, she said I was in the front yard playing with the other kids. They quick searched the neighborhood and found that I had been taken by two teenage girls.
When I was in kindergarten every day after class, we had to go to my sisters class and pick her up. Every time we had to wait for my sister, I would lay down in the door way and make all the girls with skirts step over me. Always made my day lol
My turn.
I believe it was the summer of my 13th year when my mother got her first dishwashing machine. Not a new model but still in very good shape. We were all happy for her and it made one of those little "events" that family life so much revolves about. Like "The day of the new car" or "The day we found the cat". Or when I got my first pair of glasses.
However, "The day of the dishwasher" soon got supplanted by another little "event", as you will see...
That summer, my father decided I would play little league baseball. To this day, I do not understand what possessed him to register me. My brother, a year older and always a natural athlete, was the one who excelled at every sport. I, on the other hand, wasn't just bad at sports. I was atrocious!! I managed to get a little better in my late teens but only because I couldn't get any worse. And plagued by bad vision, baseball was a nightmare, being a most visual sport.
Anyway, about three weeks after mom got her dishwasher, I'm at Sunday morning practice and the coach decides to keep me for a little extra work. To try to get me to run properly. And catch properly. And to put the bat on that damned ball!! In his words: "make something close to a ball players outta you" (he soon after gave up the notion...). And after about an hour of that, he drives me home.
We get there about 1 o'clock in the afternoon and, as I get out of the coach's VW mini-van, I see mom with my kid sister in her arms, waiting for me outside the front door with the rest of the family already in the car.
"What took you so long?" she asks
"Extra practice" I say and, being my mother, I need not tell her another word. She knows of my athletic abilities...
"Listen" she says, "we're all going to town. Your lunch is ready and still hot. You'll have the house to yourself but we'll be gone about an hour, maybe a little more. All I ask is that you start the dishwasher after your meal. Can you do that?"
"...hum..."
"Alright" she sighs, "come inside and I'll show you... AGAIN!"
I can tell from her tone that she already showed me more than once, but I have an inborn tendency to a have my mind wander off at the most inconvenient moments. And it's nothing I can help. Right now, I for the life of me can't remember ever knowing anything about that machine!
"See" she says, "you put your plate down here, utensils go here, your glass up here and this place here, that's where you put the soap. It's under the sink. You close the door and lock it. That's important. If you don't lock it well and good, the machine won't start. Let me see you do it, it's a little stiff... There, that's good. That's the start button here. Now go wash your hands and face before you eat! We'll be back soon."
"No problem" I say. "This is easy! Don't worry, I got it!"
Making short work of hands and face (I'm famished!!), I sit and have my lunch with almost a sense of jubilation at the thought of operating this dishwasher machine. You see, I know how to do this. If I was a little apprehensive before, I feel I dominate the situation now! Hell!! I could probably design and build one of these things myself...
So, lunch finished, I step forth imperially and place my plate, utensils and glass in their proper place, find the soap under the sink and puts it in with a little extra dash as some of those pots and pans are really dirty (I can judge these things now, you see...), close and lock the door and hit the start button. And immediately, it starts. HAH! Nothing to it mom! I can do this every day now.
So... With the house all to myself and a good meal inside me, I do my usual thing: grab a book and sit on the sofa in the living room. But it's a nice, balmy summer day and the place is quiet, except for the drone of the dishwasher. I'm a little tired from extra practice and I just ate. So, not unnaturally, I fall asleep. And here I must pause in the story.
( To be concluded in the next post )
Haha!! You must have been such an adorable child to be taken by two teenage girls!Quote:
Originally Posted by abracax
I've had similar experience with that, but instead of being taken by two teenage girls, it was these two old friendly ladies. :D
my turn i guess!
when i was 7 yrs old, my mom and dad left me home alone while they went to visit my grandparents ( i was pretending to be sick ) about 10 minutes after they left i got my sled out from under my bed, greased it with cooking oil, and went outside to the hill where my friends were waiting for me, got on my sled, my friends pushed me down the hill, went off a snow jump, landed in the middle of a busy street, slid for about 15 feet, smacked my right arm on a speeding car. someone called 911 and i was at the hospital about 10 minutes later, with 56 stitches in my right arm and a broken collar bone. lol least i survived to talk about it, lol now its a tradition that me and my friends do that every year
You must remember that we hadn't had that dishwashing machine for very long. And, to me, dishwashing soap had always been that green, gooey liquid called Palmolive. You know the kind. It's supposed to leave your hands soft and... palmolivish I guess. Now sure, there was a green box with the word CASCADE printed on it under the sink, but I never even considered that! In my mind, dishes were to be washed with the green, gooey stuff coming out of that plastic bottle. Forever and ever, Amen.
Of course now you know where this is going...
Back to the story.
About half an hour after drowsing off, a noise brings me back. Not a loud or startling noise. Rather soft and somewhat pleasant. Not unfamiliar either. Kind of like the sound Rice-Krispies make when you pour milk on them, but more discreet, more subdued than that.
I'm curious as to where this comes from, so I open my eyes...and my heart grows very cold.
The floor has disappeared!!!
In it's place there is foam. As far as I can see in the house, the floor is now white foam. Everywhere.
How did this happen?? I step into the foam and make my way to the kitchen and THERE, right THERE is the cause of this disaster. I have been BETRAYED!...
Mom's dishwasher isn't just leaking foam, it's birthing a white monster! It's creating a Suds Universe!! A real Immaculate Conception you perceive...(couldn't resist that one!)
I remember clearly my very first thought to be: "This has never happened before..." and then, right on the heels of that: "It's mom's fault! I followed her instructions! I did what she told me to do!"
But I know that's not right and, after a few seconds, it dawns on me. "Oh My God!" I think, "it was just a little extra dash..."
I have to stop this machine. And my first inclination is to simply unlock and open the door. But almost immediately, I reject that. I REALLY shouldn't open that door!!!! I step closer and something I never noticed before just leaps into my sight: a Stop button. I hit it and the machine stops. Phew...
What now? How do I pick up this mess? And preferably do so BEFORE mom and the rest get back?
I get the mop and pail and have a go at it, but trying to pick up foam with a mop is just impossible. So now I have a real problem.
I try with my bare hands, but this will take all day at this rate. Just as I'm about to despair, an idea comes. Why not use a broom and shovel??!!
I go get those in the back room, turn on the cold water in the sink and try brooming and shoveling. AND IT'S WORKING!!! This is one of the best idea I've ever had! I, the unpractical dreamer, have come up with a concrete solution to a concrete problem and for a moment, I am consumed by a feeling of triumphant satisfaction at my common sensical approach to the problem at hand. "You just have to treat the foam as a solid, not a liquid! Boy this is clever!! Almost scientific..." I congratulate myself. And of course, that's when I hear the car coming in the driveway. And my heart sinks into the soles of my shoes.
I will never forget the look on my mother's face when she came in the door that afternoon. I have never again seen incredulity, ire and sadness fight for domination of a countenance in quite that way.
"What did you do?" she asked me in a low voice, the sadness having temporarely won out.
"I did what you told me!!!" I said. "I just put in a little extra dash of soap to make sure..."
"A LITTLE EXTRA DASH!! WHAT DID YOU DO, PUT IN THE WHOLE BOX???"
"What box?"
"..."
"..."
Nowadays, whenever my mother tells the story, she gets hysterical at precisely the point when she starts to describe the look on my face when she came in the door that day...
Wildor, I am willing to bet you put liquid dish soap in the dishwasher instead of the correct soap lmao
I have done that before, talk about suds.........
Ahhh good times when i was in fourth grade christmas night
I decided why dont i paly with fireworks i had a little bottel rocket
and i lit it but wha ti didint know was ur suppoised to put it on the ground
before you light it..... So me being stupid i dropped it and it flew up my shirt:(
Still got scars from that one lol..... funny thign i did it agian last year
I think this is a plot to get me to talk about the "Incident"