Child Abuse & Sibling Rivalries

[rdcast]

No, they're saddle oxfords, and how about penny loafers ???

 

[middie]

I was the remote control AND the dishwasher !!!

 

[pdswife]

lol..life sure sucked didn't it middie?

 

[phinz]

We had a bayou down at the end of the block that was full of cat tails. We would pick them and bring them home. One had sat out on the front porch in a planter for about 6 months. I was standing inside the screen door. My sister, 5 years younger, was outside, as was my little brother, 10 years younger. He was *maybe* 3, and more likely 2.

Anyway, my little sister picked up the cattail and handed it to my brother. He was confused. I told him "Eat it Stuart. It's a corn dog."

He looked at me with trepidation (well, as much trepidation as a 2-year-old can have) until my sister said, "Yeah. Eat it. It's *good!*"

Keep in mind my mom was watching this with a little bemusement, not thinking anything would come of it.

But it did. He reared back, drew a bead on that nice, dry, dark brown corn dog with the nice fluffy center, and took a *big* ol' bite. I will never forget the tears rolling down my face, the stomach cramps from laughing until I almost wet myself, or my mom's look as she tried to keep a straight face while Sheri fell on the ground in hysterics and Stuart stood there with that highly-expandable cat tail fluff coming out of his mouth in vast, billowy clouds.

And to think... that kid with the corn dog phobia now works on nuclear missiles on a submarine for a living.

 

[VeraBlue]

We had a bayou down at the end of the block that was full of cat tails. We would pick them and bring them home. One had sat out on the front porch in a planter for about 6 months. I was standing inside the screen door. My sister, 5 years younger, was outside, as was my little brother, 10 years younger. He was *maybe* 3, and more likely 2.

Anyway, my little sister picked up the cattail and handed it to my brother. He was confused. I told him "Eat it Stuart. It's a corn dog."

He looked at me with trepidation (well, as much trepidation as a 2-year-old can have) until my sister said, "Yeah. Eat it. It's *good!*"

Keep in mind my mom was watching this with a little bemusement, not thinking anything would come of it.

But it did. He reared back, drew a bead on that nice, dry, dark brown corn dog with the nice fluffy center, and took a *big* ol' bite. I will never forget the tears rolling down my face, the stomach cramps from laughing until I almost wet myself, or my mom's look as she tried to keep a straight face while Sheri fell on the ground in hysterics and Stuart stood there with that highly-expandable cat tail fluff coming out of his mouth in vast, billowy clouds.

And to think... that kid with the corn dog phobia now works on nuclear missiles on a submarine for a living.

We used to call those things 'punks' for some strange reason. We used to pick them, and then set the tip on fire...although they only just smoked, never really burned.

 

[phinz]

Punks are the unscented incense sticks we use to light firecrackers. Same basic concept. Cat tails make *excellent* tinder if you tear them apart, though. I've started many a campfire with them.

 

[VeraBlue]

Punks are the unscented incense sticks we use to light firecrackers. Same basic concept. Cat tails make *excellent* tinder if you tear them apart, though. I've started many a campfire with them.

I loved the way they smelled when they were smoldering!