Kids are messy, kids are hyper, kids are ignorant of racial bias; I more than others. One time driving through the rough part of Cleveland, yes there is one, I stated to my Aunt and Nana I would like some McDonald’s. They were happy to oblige but kept failing to pull over to any of the multitude of McD’s we passed. Only years later did I learn we were in a not great area and stopping our car wasn’t the best idea at the time.
But I was also one to imitate what I see on television. This includes jumping, pretending to fly, climbing things I’m not supposed to, and behaving like a cannibal from the jungles of Borneo.
My house growing up had two half walls flanking the garage. One wall bordered the walk way to the front door and the other wall was just on the other side of the garage concealing the bitchingest little patch of dirt ever. I don’t know why but I used to just put the hose back there, turn it on, and let the mud making commence.
One day a friend, call him Brenda, and I had the bright idea to strip down and cover ourselves with mud. I’m fairly certain we had just watched Raiders of the Lost Ark yet again. So we began caking mud on our bodies. Then we found branches that we could fashion into spears. While we did this another friend, we’ll call him Jill, repeatedly said “this is not a good idea.” Clearly his risk/reward gene kicked in some time around 6 years old. I’ve often thought that his early onset wariness has been the universe’s way of balancing the fact that I, in my thirties, still contain one of the least developed (and clearly most underused) risk/reward genes on the planet.
Mud-caking complete, bushwhacker spears obtained, and no sense of shame in sight we set out. We climbed trees, jumped fences, and terrorized the neighborhood. We were honest to god just like a live-action Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. We tried herding one neighbors dog with our spears because we were going to “have the beast for a feast.” That neighbor’s response to our antics was to actually chase us with a broom.
Twas a glorious day, we roamed the streets and backyards grunting like we thought headhunters would, throwing spears at oncoming traffic and generally being roustabouts. We were like two spider monkeys...without the basic intelligence. But then, much like the housing bubble, the bottom fell out. Jill’s mom caught us and sent us home. That would have been fine but remember you are dealing with two complete morons here. Without even thinking we both marched into our houses and proceeded to get mud everywhere. When my mother caught me she hosed me off in the backyard and berated me the whole time. I had it easier than Brenda though, he got hosed off at the end of his driveway, buck naked, the whole neighborhood berated him.
When my dad got home I’m pretty sure I had my hide handed to me, it happened so often I can never remember what I got spanked for and what he let slide. This one seems big enough to have warranted a beating.
I asked my mom about this incident recently, she only said “You’ve always done stupid things.”
kisses
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