If you have kids, or spend time with kids, you already know that they lie their little butts off. Kids will lie even if they aren't actually in trouble. You can ask two siblings, "aww who painted this pretty picture?" and a sudden outburst of "SHE DID IT!...NO SHE DID IT!" will occur. Until of course they realize that you are not mad, at which point they will start to tell you that they did it all by themselves, etc.
My own nephews and nieces happen to be master liars. I've been told that once, my sister and brother in law came downstairs in the morning, following a trail of blue puddles of paint, to find the youngest daughter naked, and covered in blue, smearing a large circle of blue all over the kitchen floor. When they finally reached the source of all the blue, she proceeded to point at her perfectly clean sister and say "Bridget did it!". Now that is some very smooth lying. Don't get me wrong, her sister has her fair share of schemes and plots as well; however, being the older one, she has become much better about covering her tracks. For instance, I once went half a day of babysitting before finding several empty banana peels in the trash can, a banana covered knife in the sink, and some soap spilled on the counter and into the sink. The explanation behind this: When I babysit for the weekend, I usually try to wake up when they do, but end up falling back asleep for a half hour or so. Upon seeing that I have fallen asleep for all eternity, the girls decide that they have been orphaned, and have no choice but to take matters into their own tiny, but capable hands. They sneak downstairs, pull a chair up to the counter, get a couple of bananas and a knife from who knows where, and make themselves breakfast. Bridget knows that if I come downstairs to this, she will be doomed to stand in the corner for at least 20 seconds until I inevitably feel bad and let her off the hook. So she throws the peels into the trash can, pulls a chair up to the sink, gets out the sponge, dumps some soap on the knife, and starts scrubbing. She also tries her best to wipe the banana off the counter as well. Satisfied with herself, she brings her sister back upstairs and pretends they have been there the whole time. When finally confronted, she smoothly informs me that Chloe was getting in trouble this morning. Did I mention that they are 2 and 3?
My other sister's boys may possibly be worse liars than their cousins, but are much more dedicated to the art of lying. After an hour of being scolded for lying, and replying with "I'm not lying!" over and over again, I once had to inform my 6 or 7 year old nephew that I, myself, had spent most of my life lying to my own parents, so that is how I knew he was lying. He wasn't sure what to say to that one, but I'm sure he still denied the lie...which would of course be lying again.
The third set of nephews and nieces are basically angels who, if they have lied, probably confessed in shame a minute later. They've been told on more than one occasion, I'm sure, not to tell their parents that I, or one of their other cool, young aunts or uncles gave them ice cream or let them watch a show they weren't supposed to be watching. This backfired every time with us being chewed out the next day after they informed their parents that they were told not to tell. Of course this is the way it should be. I'm not complaining. Though I haven't spent as much time with them lately, so they may have developed the ability to lie by now. I will set a trap for them and report back.
The other siblings' children are animals and can not tell lies, though they try so hard to speak the human language.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Sneaky Tag
Sneaky tag was a game my older siblings created. It's a cross between hide and seek, freeze tag, and a horror movie.
This game is played strictly outside the house, in the dark. It takes about 4-6 hours to be completed. One person is "it". They count to 100 while everyone else runs and hides. Then they wander around the perimeter of the house trying to find people. Once you're spotted, you have to run away and avoid being tagged. If you're tagged, you're frozen and required to stand there until someone else decides to be nice and unfreeze you. If you're tagged 3 times, you're it. Most of getting unfrozen involves you begging the person near you to unfreeze you while they spend at least 5 minutes mocking you for being slow and bad at hiding. If they decided to be nice, you were pretty much still screwed because you would forever be in their debt, doomed to carry their boiling hot cappuccino's home for the rest of your life! A lot of times, people would just prefer to stay frozen, rather than have to run away and hide again. Come to think of it, there was a lot of backstabbing going on in this game. If someone who I knew was slower than me was frozen, and the "it" person was nearby, I would unfreeze them to give myself time to escape while they were run down. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, we were some weird kids with way too much free time outside. It's just too bad that we were all very athletic kids. If only we'd had one slow sibling, or maybe one with severe asthma, this game would have been so much easier!
We weren't confined to the ground either. The reason my older brother never got tagged is because he knew how to get up on the roof, and the rest of us either didn't know how, or were too scared to try. So he would pretty much just sit up there and laugh at the rest of our toil. That's probably why he always wanted to play, because he always won! Curses!
The winter was the best time to play because we could climb up high in the pine trees next to the house. We had a good visual of the landscape and when someone started climbing the tree after us, we were able to slide down the branches packed with snow and land safely on the pile we'd made earlier. Plus it was fun to throw pine cones at people walking by.
This may all sound pretty fun to you, but that's because you've never played it before. It is a terrifying game. Being chased at full speed, through the pitch dark, like your life depends on it is horrible when you are a 6 year old kid. Even if you know it's just your sibling trying to tag you. No wonder I have so many nightmares! Thanks a lot guys for inventing this terrifying, yet addicting game.
This game is played strictly outside the house, in the dark. It takes about 4-6 hours to be completed. One person is "it". They count to 100 while everyone else runs and hides. Then they wander around the perimeter of the house trying to find people. Once you're spotted, you have to run away and avoid being tagged. If you're tagged, you're frozen and required to stand there until someone else decides to be nice and unfreeze you. If you're tagged 3 times, you're it. Most of getting unfrozen involves you begging the person near you to unfreeze you while they spend at least 5 minutes mocking you for being slow and bad at hiding. If they decided to be nice, you were pretty much still screwed because you would forever be in their debt, doomed to carry their boiling hot cappuccino's home for the rest of your life! A lot of times, people would just prefer to stay frozen, rather than have to run away and hide again. Come to think of it, there was a lot of backstabbing going on in this game. If someone who I knew was slower than me was frozen, and the "it" person was nearby, I would unfreeze them to give myself time to escape while they were run down. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, we were some weird kids with way too much free time outside. It's just too bad that we were all very athletic kids. If only we'd had one slow sibling, or maybe one with severe asthma, this game would have been so much easier!
We weren't confined to the ground either. The reason my older brother never got tagged is because he knew how to get up on the roof, and the rest of us either didn't know how, or were too scared to try. So he would pretty much just sit up there and laugh at the rest of our toil. That's probably why he always wanted to play, because he always won! Curses!
The winter was the best time to play because we could climb up high in the pine trees next to the house. We had a good visual of the landscape and when someone started climbing the tree after us, we were able to slide down the branches packed with snow and land safely on the pile we'd made earlier. Plus it was fun to throw pine cones at people walking by.
This may all sound pretty fun to you, but that's because you've never played it before. It is a terrifying game. Being chased at full speed, through the pitch dark, like your life depends on it is horrible when you are a 6 year old kid. Even if you know it's just your sibling trying to tag you. No wonder I have so many nightmares! Thanks a lot guys for inventing this terrifying, yet addicting game.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Big, Dumb Micah Quotes
This is a progressive collection of all the dumb things my beloved little brother, Micah, has said, done or believed in his life. :)
1. "One time, when I was in college, I caught a fish as long as the road!"-while the rest of us are talking about fish we've caught. He must have been about 4 or 5 here. What a nut!
2. As you can see above, Micah used to talk about his days in college or in high school before he had even been to grade school.
3. Being like 1 and a half or 2 and pointing to an 8 year old and calling him a baby.
4. Tying anything and everything into impossible knots from age 2 to 10.
5. Needing his chocolate soy milk in a bottle until he was 5.
6. Believing that our pastor was Jesus.
7. Infamous for putting clothes on inside out AND backwards. (underwear are hard :))
8. Believing my older sister, Abigail, was 6 years old when Micah was 8. He cried because he thought we were all, my Dad included, lying to him that she was older than both of us.
And perhaps the best of all:
9. At 6 years old, my sister found out she was pregnant with my first nephew. When she told us all the good news, Micah began crying uncontrollably. My Mom asked him what was wrong to which he replied that he didn't want to be an uncle because he knew it meant he had to grow up instantly and get a job and move out of the house. Oh Micah. :)
That's all I can think of for now. I'll be sure to update this list in the near future. It's too bad Micah's a tall, attractive, track star now because I can't make fun of him for stuff anymore! Dumb!
1. "One time, when I was in college, I caught a fish as long as the road!"-while the rest of us are talking about fish we've caught. He must have been about 4 or 5 here. What a nut!
2. As you can see above, Micah used to talk about his days in college or in high school before he had even been to grade school.
3. Being like 1 and a half or 2 and pointing to an 8 year old and calling him a baby.
4. Tying anything and everything into impossible knots from age 2 to 10.
5. Needing his chocolate soy milk in a bottle until he was 5.
6. Believing that our pastor was Jesus.
7. Infamous for putting clothes on inside out AND backwards. (underwear are hard :))
8. Believing my older sister, Abigail, was 6 years old when Micah was 8. He cried because he thought we were all, my Dad included, lying to him that she was older than both of us.
And perhaps the best of all:
9. At 6 years old, my sister found out she was pregnant with my first nephew. When she told us all the good news, Micah began crying uncontrollably. My Mom asked him what was wrong to which he replied that he didn't want to be an uncle because he knew it meant he had to grow up instantly and get a job and move out of the house. Oh Micah. :)
That's all I can think of for now. I'll be sure to update this list in the near future. It's too bad Micah's a tall, attractive, track star now because I can't make fun of him for stuff anymore! Dumb!
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Speedway
Have you ever spent the better part of 4 hours searching for loose change throughout the house just so that you could go to the gas station to buy ramen noodles, soda, cheetos, cappuccino, and candy? I have. This was a regular pass time of my siblings and I.
Not being allowed to have any sort of junk food, we would wait until we were home alone or until our parents were distracted, and then go to Speedway, the gas station about 3 or 4 blocks away, on our bikes, and somehow carry multiple bags of snacks and boiling hot cappuccinos back to our house. There were many times where only one or two of us would go to get cappuccinos for all 4 or 5 of us. We had to ride our bikes no-handed, or with one finger on the break. Honestly, I'm surprised we still have skin on our hands and arms even after all the burning liquid.
Another problem with out methods was the ridiculous amount of change we used to pay for these forbidden snacks. We very rarely had any paper money. In fact, it was mostly pennies. None of us wanted to have to go up to the register with handfuls of pennies, so this is how it usually went: "Okay, if you go in and pay this time, I'll carry all the cappuccinos" A fair trade. Then the appointed 6 year old kid would slowly shuffle up to the register and pay for about $20 worth of junk food in mostly pennies, avoiding eye contact all the while. Usually, we would have to meet at the end of the cal de sac or at the playground and consume the majority of our food so we could ditch the evidence of the items that wouldn't fit under out shirts before going home. Even then, we would have to do our usual method in reverse to get back into the house. Send a "volunteer" scout to assess the location of our parents, who inevitably gets caught and is made to vacuum, thereby creating the necessary diversion for us to sneak inside with the stuff.
Like I said in an earlier post, that method was used every day for everything.
Not being allowed to have any sort of junk food, we would wait until we were home alone or until our parents were distracted, and then go to Speedway, the gas station about 3 or 4 blocks away, on our bikes, and somehow carry multiple bags of snacks and boiling hot cappuccinos back to our house. There were many times where only one or two of us would go to get cappuccinos for all 4 or 5 of us. We had to ride our bikes no-handed, or with one finger on the break. Honestly, I'm surprised we still have skin on our hands and arms even after all the burning liquid.
Another problem with out methods was the ridiculous amount of change we used to pay for these forbidden snacks. We very rarely had any paper money. In fact, it was mostly pennies. None of us wanted to have to go up to the register with handfuls of pennies, so this is how it usually went: "Okay, if you go in and pay this time, I'll carry all the cappuccinos" A fair trade. Then the appointed 6 year old kid would slowly shuffle up to the register and pay for about $20 worth of junk food in mostly pennies, avoiding eye contact all the while. Usually, we would have to meet at the end of the cal de sac or at the playground and consume the majority of our food so we could ditch the evidence of the items that wouldn't fit under out shirts before going home. Even then, we would have to do our usual method in reverse to get back into the house. Send a "volunteer" scout to assess the location of our parents, who inevitably gets caught and is made to vacuum, thereby creating the necessary diversion for us to sneak inside with the stuff.
Like I said in an earlier post, that method was used every day for everything.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Leaves
In the spirit of fall, I shall tell ye ole tale of the triumphant gathering of leaves! To all of you Shakespearian types out there, don't get too excited. It's not a meaningful tale at all. It's a story about a bunch of dumb kids who drove their parents crazy and probably embarrassed them in front of the entire neighborhood year after year.
I only remember doing this with a few of my closer siblings, but the rest of them probably did it before I can remember too. In fact that's probably one of the very valuable things we learned from them. Such wonderful role models they were. Obviously this story is about us gathering leaves, but the less obvious part is how. First we would rake our own lawn to begin our pile in the front yard. Pretty obvious, right? Next we would move on to the neighbor's curbs. We would go around the cul de sac with garbage bags and fill our bags with any leaf piles we found on the curb. Still seems pretty normal. But then, once we had cleaned the curbs, we would go to the houses with unraked leaves and ask if we could rake their leaves up. When we were done, they would say thank you and ask how much we wanted them to pay us. We were baffled. Money? We just want the leaves! The golden, crispy, precious leaves! What was money compared to that?! Silly grown ups. They just didn't understand.
Once we had a sufficient pile about the height of a sky scraper and the width of Texas, we would then burry ourselves (sitting upright) completely so that we could just barely see the street, but no one on the street could see us. And of course, the grand finale was jumping out at unsuspecting pedestrians. Our poor parents.
I only remember doing this with a few of my closer siblings, but the rest of them probably did it before I can remember too. In fact that's probably one of the very valuable things we learned from them. Such wonderful role models they were. Obviously this story is about us gathering leaves, but the less obvious part is how. First we would rake our own lawn to begin our pile in the front yard. Pretty obvious, right? Next we would move on to the neighbor's curbs. We would go around the cul de sac with garbage bags and fill our bags with any leaf piles we found on the curb. Still seems pretty normal. But then, once we had cleaned the curbs, we would go to the houses with unraked leaves and ask if we could rake their leaves up. When we were done, they would say thank you and ask how much we wanted them to pay us. We were baffled. Money? We just want the leaves! The golden, crispy, precious leaves! What was money compared to that?! Silly grown ups. They just didn't understand.
Once we had a sufficient pile about the height of a sky scraper and the width of Texas, we would then burry ourselves (sitting upright) completely so that we could just barely see the street, but no one on the street could see us. And of course, the grand finale was jumping out at unsuspecting pedestrians. Our poor parents.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Soda
Growing up, my mom never let us have soda, because in every soda container, whether it be bottle or can, there is a tiny demon living inside. Everybody knows that. There was a time when my mom found an empty coke can in my sister's and my room. This particular can actually belonged to our friend who had been over that day. I'm not sure if she didn't believe us, or just wouldn't let us get a word in; but either way, she proceeded to give an hour long lecture on the dangers of drinking soda. One can, she said, could give us liver failure, kidney failure, general organ failure, amputated limbs...after which, of course, both of us suddenly began to picture ourselves taking a sip of soda and suddenly having all our limbs pop off at the same time. Needless to say we didn't take her very seriously...and then one day, all of our limbs just popped off, and didn't we feel like idiots then!
But anyway, back to the real world. My mother's strict rules about soda cruelly forced us into the deep bowels of high fructose corn syrup deficiency, which, of course, gave us super soda sensors...*dramatic music playing*...It was a day just like any other. I was in the upstairs bathroom doing what any normal 11 year old girl would do in a bathroom (most likely trying on all of my sisters' makeup at the same time), when suddenly I heard a noise. It was a faint noise, which anyone else probably would have dismissed. But I knew that sound immediately. I thought to myself, "could it be?! NO it can't be!!! It has to be! How could this be?!", ran downstairs at top Pardee speed (which is pretty fast if you don't know any Pardee's), and sure enough, there it was on the table. An opened, but full can of Pepsi, just sitting there, waiting for me. My next thought was, "this is too good to be true, it must be a trap!" I looked around cautiously and tiptoed up to the table. But just as soon as the sweet high fructose corn syrup nectar touched my lips, an angry voice behind me shouted, "Marta! Dang it I knew if I left that can here for one second, someone would hear it and drink it!" Alas...I was not victorious.
But anyway, back to the real world. My mother's strict rules about soda cruelly forced us into the deep bowels of high fructose corn syrup deficiency, which, of course, gave us super soda sensors...*dramatic music playing*...It was a day just like any other. I was in the upstairs bathroom doing what any normal 11 year old girl would do in a bathroom (most likely trying on all of my sisters' makeup at the same time), when suddenly I heard a noise. It was a faint noise, which anyone else probably would have dismissed. But I knew that sound immediately. I thought to myself, "could it be?! NO it can't be!!! It has to be! How could this be?!", ran downstairs at top Pardee speed (which is pretty fast if you don't know any Pardee's), and sure enough, there it was on the table. An opened, but full can of Pepsi, just sitting there, waiting for me. My next thought was, "this is too good to be true, it must be a trap!" I looked around cautiously and tiptoed up to the table. But just as soon as the sweet high fructose corn syrup nectar touched my lips, an angry voice behind me shouted, "Marta! Dang it I knew if I left that can here for one second, someone would hear it and drink it!" Alas...I was not victorious.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Scams
Growing up with many older, cunning siblings, it wasn't uncommon to get scammed out of things on a daily or weekly basis. These scams included, but were not limited to:
1. Being asked to make someone a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, because "I made them the best way", not because they were too lazy to make their own. I was four. How can a four year old's sandwich possibly top a 14 year olds?
2. Being asked for something and being promised $5 in return for said item or service. Later being handed a sheet of paper with $5 written on it and being told "I never said it was gonna be real money!".
3. Being traded my paper money for pennies because "the metal was so much more valuable than the paper".
4. "If you tell Mom you did it, I won't hit you harder."
5. "Micah, you're the youngest, and mom cuts you the most slack. Just tell her you did it so we can all stop standing in the kitchen. She won't get mad at you."
6. "Marta, seriously, tickle my back for a little while! I promise I'll tickle yours after." 10 minutes later, "Marta I'm too tired, I'll do yours tomorrow, promise." Yea right.
1. Being asked to make someone a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, because "I made them the best way", not because they were too lazy to make their own. I was four. How can a four year old's sandwich possibly top a 14 year olds?
2. Being asked for something and being promised $5 in return for said item or service. Later being handed a sheet of paper with $5 written on it and being told "I never said it was gonna be real money!".
3. Being traded my paper money for pennies because "the metal was so much more valuable than the paper".
4. "If you tell Mom you did it, I won't hit you harder."
5. "Micah, you're the youngest, and mom cuts you the most slack. Just tell her you did it so we can all stop standing in the kitchen. She won't get mad at you."
6. "Marta, seriously, tickle my back for a little while! I promise I'll tickle yours after." 10 minutes later, "Marta I'm too tired, I'll do yours tomorrow, promise." Yea right.
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