You know the one task in which you will never get anywhere? Sweeping water. No, seriously! This was actually something my father used to give us to do to keep us busy in the morning. Now, as stupid as I’m sure that sounds, it does have some merit, u know, u get a big enough broom and sweep the water toward the edge of the flooring, it will go over and eventually you’ll get most of it. This logic, however, is defeated when you’re told to sweep and it’s STILL RAINING!
So yeah, my dad had some messed up ideas for how to keep small children occupied. Like garden tools and kitchen items in the sandbox, now that’s smart. Give a four-year-old a metal colander to play with… when the weather turns cold, you show her that she can lick clean snow off of the fence posts… the same fence post the colander was hung on before the snow fell… five minutes later, it’s hangin’ off her tongue like she was a little African girl with a huge piercing in her lip! Or better yet, give the three-year-old a big heavy metal garden rake… half an hour later, little brother has to go to the emergency room! Thanks big sis!
My brother had seven major injuries at the age of seven. We were home-schooled, and I had cheep parents. I never had leapsters or flypens, or any cool technology-stuff. I had Mr. Peabody and Sherman to teach me about gravity and flying apples and about the fig newton… but my brother was less interested in TV, so he learned about gravity the hard way… he tossed a piece of 2x12 with a nail in it up in the air… gravity brought it back to smuck him in the head… injury 2! He also learned about momentum… when your leg is hooked in wires and you roll a log, the log will continue to roll until it is stopped by equal or greater opposite force… and when it’s rolling with a small boy attached it, it only stops rolling when the boy’s head comes in contact with something sharp… oh, I don’t know, like the log-cutting saw blade! That’s a good idea! Major injury number 3!
The others were barbed wire to the eye, a dog bite, several falls down the stairs, falling off his bike, shredding his knee… my brother was gonna be the next evil-kenivel, and then I fall off my bike going half a mile and hour and break my wrist! And thus began my era of being a cheerleader!
But anyways, that was only part of my life and a bigger part now is college. You know how it goes, dorm life, peer pressure… and as a new freshman you’re like pssht, sure, I can handle it, and on that first day you walk in and meet your new roommate and you shake hands and kiss your mom goodbye, and as soon as she’s gone your flirting with the guy helping his girlfriend across the hall move in.
But yeah, my first roommate was a girl from kyrzgstan, or kryszicstan, or one of those stanzes, I don’t know, she had a Russian accent, and that’s all that mattered. Now, she was quiet, she didn’t have much shit, so I sorta took over most of the room, that was good, she never complained much… but she went back to her host family every weekend, and then the trouble started. I would start getting these odd phone calls at 4 in the morning on Saturday from people talking in different languages asking for her… apparently her friends back home couldn’t calculate the time difference. And none of them spoke English… ever. So I can’t say I minded when she moved to a different room at semester. But then I got this new roomie, a girl I had been getting to know who had an evil roommate and needed to be librated. Now I loved her with all my heart, but she was a serious flake sometimes! She went through two boyfriends in a semester. Well, actually, it was two semesters, the end of the first and the beginning of the second, but it was really only one… I usually just write those boys off as early and belated x-mas gifts… both needed to be returned, the first one said “some assembly required” on his ass, and the other was “batteries not included”… we tried to get our money back, but Wal-mart doesn’t accept returns once you voided the waranties. :)
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