Childhood Revisited: Burn the evidence or use spray paint

403387_300733903369880_1828867308_n

We all had that friend/sibling/pet (insert someone here) as a child who gave you a plethora of humorous stories to tell while you are sitting around a table/campfire/car trip with friends. They left you with the kind of stories that bring tears to your eyes or left an inside joke to tell for years. WordPress has offered up the Daily Prompt called Childhood Revisited to share the story.

Last week I was talking to someone who had asked me about my childhood. I revealed that I had moved 13 times before I was in grade 3. They asked me if I thought I had an awful childhood. Are you kidding me? I had an AWESOME childhood! I had Aunties that treated me like a princess, Grannies that spoiled me rotten, parents who took me to Disneyland…a LOT, and a brother who was my pal, my minion and a terrorist.

You may think having a terrorist for a brother was a bad thing. Not necessarily. It’s not like he killed anyone (that he would admit to) nor was he evil. He was the sort of fellow that thought everything bad was a good idea, as in LETS TRY IT OUT! If it was tame, he always replied with “Pffffff, I can do that but it’s too easy.” When we watched Ripley’s believe it or not or In Search of.. He usually said “That is so fake”. But he believed in Aliens and the Supernatural. Scientific stuff, not so much.

He is 1.5 years younger than me. We like the same things and got into the same trouble. We spent 99% of our childhood grounded. He was the best blackmailer on the planet and more stubborn than anyone I know. My kids often ask for Uncle stories. Now that they are old enough to know better, I will share this one.

My brother had the coolest room EVER. It had Star Wars wallpaper on every wall, his bed sported matching sheets and comforter. He had all the best toys from Star Wars action figures to Steve Austin the Bionic Man. THe best part about his room was the bed. It was a Captian’s Bed. the mattress was on a raised platform high above the floor with 3 drawers and 2 shelves underneath. Often we would play under his bed. Behind the drawers was space. It seemed huge, I think back now and it must have been only  a small narrow space, but to us it was a fort. Large enough for any adventure either with or without the action figures. We usually wore a cape and rubber boots for obvious reasons.

I sometimes had a sleep-over in his room on a Friday night. We would squish together and sleep under his bed. Sometimes we told ghost stories and he would share his experiences with The Hand or The Blue lady, ghosts that visited him regularly. One night, I said out loud, “I wish we could have a campfire.” My brother looked at me and ran out of the room. I figured he was going to ‘tell on’ me, like the snitch he usually was. But he didn’t. He went outside to the side of the house and brought in wood chips. He placed them on his carpet in a pile. I looked at him questionably, and he said “I took dad’s lighter.” I said wait until I get back.

I ran up stairs to the kitchen and grabbed a pie tin, the lysol can and a glass of water – you know Safety First! Then I returned. I suggested we put the wood chips in the pie tin so the carpet doesn’t get wrecked. “You know how mom gets” then he tried lighting the wood chips. The chips wouldn’t burn. So, me being the brainiac of the bunch, I suggested we use the lysol as a torch. I sprayed the can and he ignited the spray with the lighter. Before long we had those wood chips burning – under the bed. We sang a few songs and told a story but the smoke was really bad. I was scared mom would smell it so I said we should put it out before she gets mad. Luckily I thought ahead and brought water!

Well…the water didn’t work so my brother ran to get more. 5 cups later the room was FILLED with smoke and we were in danger of being grounded AGAIN. I opened up the window – of course it was the middle of a Canadian Winter and the window was FROZEN shut. My brother thought we should use the lysol torch to thaw it. It worked like a charm except we noticed scorch marks on the window frame. MOM WAS GOING TO KILL US! We finally rid the room of smoke. I tried washing the scorch marks but it was no use. We needed to paint. Luckily for us my brother had a closet full of model spray paint but the labels were messed up with different colours. It was hard to tell which colour was in each can. We needed white.

My brother grabbed a can and sprayed it in the air – black. Wrong colour. The next can he sprayed in the air – white, SCORE! We carefully painted the window sill and cleaned up our mess. I sprayed the room with the remains of the lysol so no one would be the wiser. We noticed the time and quickly jumped into bed – dad was about to check on us for the night.

Moments later, Dad opened the door and said, “Lights out, good night.” Phew…we made it.

In the morning we were up watching Saturday morning cartoons when my mom called us. We looked sheepishly at each other and wandered into my brother’s room where she stood in the middle of the floor looking at the ceiling. “What is that black mark on the ceiling?” CRAP it was a black spot from spraying the paint in the air to see what colour it was. We both shrugged our shoulders and said in unison, “I don’t know” and we slunk away back to the family room to finish watching The Justice League.

I look back on that adventure and sometimes think “WOW we could have DIED.” But sometimes I think, “There is NOTHING my kids could do that I have not done.” But mostly I think, “I am thankful to have gone through my childhood with my brother.”

Love you lots Dumbdumbuglyandsmell

It’s Smash Up Time Again!

Two days before Christmas! I am I have someone wrapping gifts, finished the baking, made my dish for Boxing Day, and I had time to read some blogs! I took a stroll down to Australia to visit my friend The Oracle, he was talking about other stuff to blog about when he brought up favorite Toys. That made me think about the Toys in my Brother’s Closet.

As a kid, we were never showered with gifts during the year. Come Christmas morning we were SPOILED ROTTEN! If it was on the list, my mom did her very best to find it for us. I got a brand new box of crayons every year, usually a new colouring book, new jammies and something fabulous from the Sears Wishbook.

I had great things, like Fischer Price Little People homes, my Baby Tender-Love who I fondly named Baby Tender Loin,everything Barbie and a Snoopy Snow Cone Machine. However, the most favorite toy of all was not even mine. Was it the Six Million Dollar Man with the bionic arm and eye? Nope, that was awesome and my brother never let me hold it, never mind play with it. Then there was his Light Sabre, it GLOWED IN THE DARK! There was only one, and no, I never got to touch it. Then there was all the Star Wars Action Figures, I was only allowed to be stupid Leia with the cinnamon buns on her head. No the Best Toy he ever owned had two parts, he needed me. I was the red and he was the blue. No it wasn’t those Rock’em Sock’em Robots, it was Smash Up Derby!

Awesome isn’t it?

We would sit in the long hallway downstairs next to our rooms. Set the ramps up in the middle and cheer when the cars hit each other, which was seldom. It took FOREVER to put the cars back together. I loved it when he asked if I wanted to play. Being the best blackmailer in all the world, my Brother would say “I will let you play if you set up and clean up or no deal” So I looked in the mirror and saw the word “chump” on my forehead and always agreed. I loved that toy and I would do anything to play with it.

As I think about the gifts my offspring will open Christmas Morning, none hold the same excitement as Smash Up Derby. Well, at least not for me. I have a feeling they will be thrilled with their gifts. Just like every kid who opens up a gift on Christmas morning.