This is your brain on drugs.
When I was a kid, especially when I was in fourth grade, I was so cute. Like, this one time when I thought it would be really cute to hide my mom's keys. We were at my aunt and uncle's house and my dad and mom had driven separately because my dad had to work late and came to the house late. So when it was time to leave and I didn't know my mom had decided to stay a tad longer than my dad and I. And I had hid her keys in my pocket. And then forgot about it by the time my dad decided he needed to get home and take me home. It was so cute that when my dad and I walked into our house - 45 minutes from my aunt and uncle's house - the phone was ringing because my mom couldn't find her keys. And it was cute when I said that I did, in fact, know the precise whereabouts of my mom's keys, which was in my pocket. And my dad had to drive the 45 minutes back out to my mom. And he decided that I was so cute in fourth grade that I needed to stay home by myself for the first time in my entire life and get in bed while he drove the 45 minutes back out to my mom. And I was so cute that, ten minutes after he left and I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom with the door closed, I was sure a serial killer cannibalistic rapist had entered my locked front door, knocked on the unlocked closed bathroom door, and then proceeded to run back out the front door, being careful enough to re-lock it. So I was cute enough to call 911 and tell them the story and they sent a police officer to my house to check on me and my story. And the police officer sat with my at the dining room table until my parents drove up, at which time I freaked out and jumped in my bed, pretending to be asleep. And the police officer met my parents in the driveway and gave them the story and my parents came in the house and they didn't get mad - they just hugged my cute little ass.
And I think my favorite part of the whole story was when, years later and I was old enough to understand and overhear my dad relaying this story to my uncle, he added the part at the end that my parents' BONG had been sitting in plain view on the dining room table.
Yeah, that's pretty fucking cute.
When I was a kid, especially when I was in fourth grade, I was so cute. Like, this one time when I thought it would be really cute to hide my mom's keys. We were at my aunt and uncle's house and my dad and mom had driven separately because my dad had to work late and came to the house late. So when it was time to leave and I didn't know my mom had decided to stay a tad longer than my dad and I. And I had hid her keys in my pocket. And then forgot about it by the time my dad decided he needed to get home and take me home. It was so cute that when my dad and I walked into our house - 45 minutes from my aunt and uncle's house - the phone was ringing because my mom couldn't find her keys. And it was cute when I said that I did, in fact, know the precise whereabouts of my mom's keys, which was in my pocket. And my dad had to drive the 45 minutes back out to my mom. And he decided that I was so cute in fourth grade that I needed to stay home by myself for the first time in my entire life and get in bed while he drove the 45 minutes back out to my mom. And I was so cute that, ten minutes after he left and I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom with the door closed, I was sure a serial killer cannibalistic rapist had entered my locked front door, knocked on the unlocked closed bathroom door, and then proceeded to run back out the front door, being careful enough to re-lock it. So I was cute enough to call 911 and tell them the story and they sent a police officer to my house to check on me and my story. And the police officer sat with my at the dining room table until my parents drove up, at which time I freaked out and jumped in my bed, pretending to be asleep. And the police officer met my parents in the driveway and gave them the story and my parents came in the house and they didn't get mad - they just hugged my cute little ass.
And I think my favorite part of the whole story was when, years later and I was old enough to understand and overhear my dad relaying this story to my uncle, he added the part at the end that my parents' BONG had been sitting in plain view on the dining room table.
Yeah, that's pretty fucking cute.
posted by Heather at 3:51 AM
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