My dad totally blew stuff up.
After my grandma's funeral, my dad and his younger brother were reminiscing about their childhood and my uncle reminded my dad how he (uncle) was always getting caught doing stuff, but Dad totally got away with everything. Dad then told us about the time he was in 8th grade and hanging with his buddies after school one fall early evening. It was after dark but before dinnertime, and they decided to stand on an overpass and drop small pumpkins on cars as they emerged from the overpass below them. They did this for a few cars, and then they dropped one last pumpkin on a car which immediately turned on his flashing red lights. When they saw that it was a cop car, they bolted for home.
Dad got his brand new jeans caught on a barbed wire fence he was trying to jump over and had to tell Grandma that he had ruined them his first time wearing them. He got in trouble for that, but the cops never found him in relation to the pumpkin-dropping.
(Uncle was always getting caught, starting with the time he decided to follow his dad to work one morning. He wasn't even two years old and managed to sneak out the door and wander down the country road leading away from their farm. Grandma had gone back to bed after seeing Grandpa off and didn't notice he had disappeared for a few hours until he didn't come down for breakfast. She searched all the farm buildings and then frantically called the police. A cruiser had happened upon him trotting down the road and had taken him back to the station, where a picture of him in his pjs and wearing a policeman's hat was taken and later printed in the paper, along with the happy ending to the story. He did look adorable in the pic, but I remember Grandma telling that story and still turning pale.)
When I was 4 or 5, my brother who was 6 or 7 and I would go around the block and across at least on street to the elementary school playground - alone. Once we got trapped up in the rocket shaped slide ting while an older kid shot a BB gun at us.
And I know I was walking several blocks alone after school by third grade.
ION, This is Hug an Atheist Day
eta: Some have suggested today should also be "Pat an Agnostic on the Shoulder Day"
we had a bell. Big old cast-iron bell in the courtyard in front of the house. It was quite embarrasing to be in the middle of a game of ghost-in-the-graveyard and hear
ding-a-ding-a-ding-a-ding-a-ding!
and have all the other kids tease, "hey McNultys your dinner's ready!"
what do meta-agnostics get?
edit: I tend to identify as atheist as it discourages efforts to convert me. Maybe I can get some a-frame hugs today.
My dad has the ability to whistle so piercingly that he could just open the front door of the house, stick two fingers in his mouth, whistle, and I'd hear it four blocks over at the playground. I knew then it was time to go home. Better than a cell phone!
HOW. HOW DID YOU GET HIM TO USE THE THING???????????????
I credit daycare for much of it, Franny for the rest. I did very little. About all I actively did was sing goofy songs to him on the potty like "if you pee-pee in the potty shout HOORAY!" Oh, and I stopped putting him in diapers once he started to demonstrate that he could use it. After that, I think the general unpleasantness of the wet/poopy underpants teaches them the rest.
He's better at using it for #1 than #2, even now. And a lot of the kids in his class are still wearing pull-ups, so don't worry. She's not behind the curve, Lillian will learn when she's ready.
When I was 4 I got loose from my dad at the mall and decide to play hide-and-seek, compacting myself into the space beneath a bench in a dressing room at the far end of the place. Not so great for parental peace of mind, but I was ahead of my time in developing the skills necessary to survive invasion by chest-busting aliens.
