Saturday, September 24, 2011

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: 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 know...he planted a dairy en route 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

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