Flashback Friday (FF): Busted

I was a perfect child (just ask my siblings - Ha!).  I never did anything wrong or got in trouble.  

Except, of course, for when I did.

Strange thing is... these types of stories seem to be the ones my kids most like to hear.  One oft requested story involves my brother Sean, a bus, a loss of temper, and missing skin...

Our family was getting ready to go to a family reunion at Zion's National Park in Utah.  To make the trip, Dad borrowed a bus (a real-life BUS) from one of his friends.  Mom was busy making travel preparations.  My siblings and I thought the bus was a great place to play.  

Sean did something and I got angry and gave him a shove.  It wasn't a big shove, but he happened to be standing at the edge of the bus stairs and I pushed him just hard enough to make him lose his balance.  He fell backwards and slid, bump!, bump!, down the stairs on his back.  I remember lots of screaming as he quickly darted off into the house.  When I got up my courage, I followed the shrieks and snuck sheepishly into the bathroom where I found my mom pulling skin off his back with tweezers.  

I really didn't mean to hurt him and I felt really bad.  It probably didn't make for a very fun long week of travel for him.  

Sean - 5 yrs. old

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I'm sure there are countless stories of times I've messed up, but here are just a few that stand out to me.  I'm sure my mom and siblings will be happy to share other experiences. ;)

*My Aunt Nancy likes to tell stories of my cousin Paul and me playing when we were young.  She says that Paul would pick on me and pick on me, until I'd had enough and then I'd "wallop" him.  I don't remember any of that, but I do have a vague memory of the two of us playing with a belt (we must have been pretty small, 4 maybe??).  The idea was to hit each other, I think on the backside.  The result was me hitting him on the head with the buckle and slicing his head open.  Oops again.

Erin, Christie, and Paul (with no noticeable scarring)

* Here's another Sean story (we definitely were good at getting each other riled up).  Once we were outside playing and he did something and, again, I get really angry.  This time I reached down and picked up a handful of pebbles and chucked them at him.  He wasn't hurt, but he was standing in front of the family car.  As the driver's side door window shattered, I knew I was in BIG trouble.  If I remember correctly, both Sean and I got in big trouble (I think we'd both been throwing rocks).  The punishment started out as a week's grounding.  After a day or two, Dad let me "earn" days off by writing pages and pages of "I will not throw rocks."

* I was always a very conscientious student.  One day in 4th grade I somehow forgot to write down one of my homework assignments.  The next day when I got to school and realized my mistake I was horrified.  The punishment for missing homework was a "caution slip."  With tears pouring down my cheeks I begged my teacher for mercy, "I promise I'll never do it again!  It was an accident!"  

She took pity on me and I avoided the dreaded caution slip.  When I got home that afternoon I timidly approached my mom who was pulling clothes from the dryer. "Mom," I asked, "what would you do if I got a (gulp!) caution slip?"

She looked up briefly, "for doing what?"

"Missing homework," I whispered

She shrugged her shoulders, "nothing."  

I was shocked.  Nothing?!  Really??  For getting a caution slip!  I was also greatly relieved, but I still don't think I ever did get a caution slip.

* Years later, when I really should have known better, I did get in trouble at school.  I was in 10th grade and really enjoyed chatting with a cute boy in my Chemistry class.  I vaguely remember the teacher asking us to be quiet, but I didn't listen.  Finally, the teacher got fed up and said, "Erin, go to the hall!"

I stood for a moment in stunned silence, mindful of the gaping mouths of all my classmates.  Finally I made my way to sit in the hallway of shame.  When my teacher came out to talk to me a few minutes later, I accused, "You sent me out.  You sent ME out!!"  Arrogant much?

First day of school (10th or 11th grade?) at the bus stop

*Oh, and then there was that one time when I shot my cousin.  But that's a story for another day.