Never Trust a Wet Jellybean

I like to think I'm a good person. Growing up, I was a good teenager. And despite getting strapped twice, having three detentions and being a C grade average student, I was a "pleasure to teach" when I was a kid. Which is why it might disturb some of you to learn that I have done naughty things. So here's a brief rundown of the most shocking:

1. When I was 9 years old a house in our neighbourhood was being pulled down for a new building. I snuck onto the property with a couple of kids from my class for a nosy. Wandering over to a pile of rubble, I found myself picking up a brick - just to see how heavy it was. Then the devil and I had a conversation. I tried to resist him but I was 9 and the devil pulled a gun on me and literally FORCED me to do it. So I had no other option than to hurl the brick at a window, smashing it into a zillion pieces, before legging it home leaving the boys in my class to cop all the blame. It was their own fault really. Turns out they were there to steal the copper pipes so they had intentionally gone there with criminal activity in mind, whereas I was just innocently being held hostage by the Tempter.

2. I had an older sister who was 7 years older than me. She didn't like me very much but occasionally she found that I had my uses. Every now and then she would have me legging it to the corner shop (known in NZ as a "dairy) to buy her lollies and Crazy Joe Cola iceblocks. Incidentally, it took me ages to find a picture of a Crazy Joe. I was starting to think I'd imagined them, but I finally found proof that they did exist:

Anyway...as I said, my sister didn't seem to like me very much and when I would return full of hope that she'd share the goodies, she'd simply snatch them from me and walk off munching, leaving me empty handed. I may have been 7 years younger than her but by the time I was about 6 years old, it eventually occurred to me that I was being taken advantage of. One day I was a little keener to run her errand than usual. On the way home I made a tiny little hole in the Crazy Joe wrapping and sucked that cola taste out of that pinprick hole with all my strength. It was stolen cola taste and it was fabulous. Next I moved on to the .20c bag of jellybeans. I carefully sampled each one, ensuring that my teeth made no contact with their sweet yumminess before spitting them back into the bag. It may have been puzzling for my big sister to find that Walls had now started manufacturing Crazy Joe Colas in white with no taste and I imagine that she would have been equally surprised to find that all her jellybeans were sticky, but she ate them all the same and never said anything about it. Not that I mean to be unkind but I don't really think she was firing on all spark plugs. I'm not suggesting that she forgot to pay her brain bill but being outsmarted by a 6 year old might imply that she'd been playing too much without a helmet...

Actually, there are a few dairy stories I could tell. The lady behind the counter was called Mrs Sands and she had tattoos all the way up her arms. The cool thing about Mrs Sands was that she used to give kids a free bag of lollies if it was their birthday. I say "used to" because it didn't take long for Mrs Sands to grow weary of us all having a birthday at least every week.

3. Then there was the offering money my mum gave me for Sunday School. Each week I had every good intention of putting that money into the collection plate. But the devil...well...you know...he planted a dairy en route and...you know....he pulled a knife on me and made me buy lollies - against my will I tell you!

There are plenty more misdemeanors I really should confess but I'm a Baptist and we don't do Confession...or dancing...except at the Sunday School mid-winter disco...

I confess...I dance like a chicken

A really crappy post

C once told me off for using the "C" word. Being told off by a 7 year old is quite a humbling experience but I think it was unwarranted in this case so we had a discussion about the word "Crap" (what did you think I said?)  My argument is that "Crap" is not a rude word since the modern toilet was invented by Mr Thomas Crapper and the word has been adapted from his name. So I defend the title of this post as completely decent.

It was Banana Split night at Dennys with R on Wednesday. The car park has been pretty full recently but on this occasion we were fortunate enough to get a space a little closer than that time a few weeks ago when I attempted to park in three different spaces, couldn't fit, got cross, parked on the road for a second before swooping in on an empty space under at the far corner of the car park with R getting out of the car to ensure I didn't scratch the Audi in the space next door. So on Wednesday, I was quite pleased with my maneuverability skills in getting Beloved's car (which I'd borrowed) into a nice position under a tree.

One-and-a-half banana splits later we returned to go home. When we got in the car we thought we heard rain on the roof and didn't really think much more about it and went home. Then the morning came. I was taking the rubbish bags out to the gate and saw something very similar to this:

Reinactment - not actually Beloved's actual car

Thomas Crapper's name came to mind (or something very similar). All right, so maybe parking under a tree at Denny's wasn't the best move after all, but right now I had an emergency to deal with. If Beloved saw his car in that condition, he would go ballistic!!!! Fortunately, Beloved was still in the shower, or on the loo or something, so I had about three minutes to hide the evidence.  I have no idea what to use to wash poop off a car so I just ran around in a flap for about 60 seconds, grabbed a bucket of water and a towel and proceeded to rub the stuff off. It's sticky stuff. I can't say it was perfectly done but I figured I'd removed enough evidence to cover my tracks.

Birds really are quite evil, aren't they?

It wasn't too long before I bumped into Beloved - what, with living in the same house and all.
He took one look at my face: "What have you done?"
HOW does he DO that? "What? Nothing? Why?"
"You look guilty!"
"Wha??!?"
"You've done SOMEthing!"
He kissed me goodbye and headed out the door to work. I held my breath.
"Oh, you've washed all the bird sh&* off the car! When did you do that?"
He knew!!! He'd been out earlier in the day to pick up the daily paper.
There was only one way out of this situation. Blame him! "Well it's YOUR fault!"
"How is it MY fault?"
"Because YOU should have TOLD me that you KNEW so that I wouldn't have to wash YOUR car before YOU found it!"

I've given this some thought, and have decided that birds really should learn a few good manners. All I know is that after I go to bed, I manage to get through the night without continual crapping. But because the birds at Denny's are bird-brains, I think the local council should fit arrange for all of them to be fitted with these:

Bird Nappies!

Yup. If you google it, you will find it.