Felonies and other Petty Crimes posted 5/18/2008 2:40:06 PM | 13 kudos what's this?     report abuse

LaughTillYaPuke

Christmas with the family. Start drinking early. It's the only way to survive. One of my brother's mentions the fact that a person tends to make the same mistake in life over and over again. Unable or unwilling to ever make a change. Poor bastard. He never should have opened his mouth. We regal the crowd with his many misdemeanors. (and a few felonies as well) We work our way around the room with everyone getting a chance in the hot seat. Our version of opening presents. Steve decides to tell his favorite story from my childhood. He considers it the best if for no other reason, than all of his crimes pale in comparison.

*So yeah, I found a stray dog. Mangy, looked pretty hungry, and I would like to tell you that he followed me home. But the reality is, I'm pretty sure I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and DRAGGED him back to the house. But once I got him there, I wasn't quite sure what to do with him. He needed somebody, that's for sure. But I'm not a COMPLETE idiot, my parents aren't gonna be wild about this idea.

In a very large house, with a big family, you really aren't afforded many secrets. So hiding a fully grown dog poses a challenge. That's alright, I'm good with challenges. After about 30 seconds of intense and deep thought I come up with the only logical place to hide the dog. My parents bedroom.

Really, think about it. It's the one place nobody is going all day long! It's quiet, peaceful, and I think Twirly will be pretty darn happy here.

While he wanders around sniffing everything, I trot off to my best friends. SHE should know what dogs eat. And she does. 'As long as it stinks, she says, they will eat it' I run back home to dig in the cupboards for something suitably stinky.

Shuffle through the cans and what do I find? Two cans of sauerkraut. It doesn't get any stinkier than that people. I open up a can, put it on one of the good plates and go feed Twirly. I'm a freaking GENIUS! He inhaled that thing. I bring the plate back downstairs and add the other can. Anything that eats that fast has still got to be hungry.

I do have a selfish moment here. I look in the cupboard and add two cans of Cream of Mushroom soup to this gory mix. Cream of Mushroom soup is basically gravy with slugs in it. And if he eats it, I won't have too.

He gobbled that plate up right quick too. But it smells pretty ripe in there. I'm not sure if it's the food or the dog. It's a moot point anyway and I realize that he is going to also need something to drink. He is homeless, so I think he deserves a treat. Get a Tupperware bowl, fill it with water and throw a half a jar of Tang in it. He likes it! I am the Queen of good deeds and may now run off and have some fun.

I come home sometime after dark. Couldn't tell you what time it was or where I had been. If you have read any of my other blogs, you can see the pattern here. I walk into the kitchen to see 4 of my siblings sitting around the kitchen table doing nothing. They all look at me and Steve pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit down.

What the heck is going on here? Steve puts his arm around the back of my chair, leans over and says...'You know where your going don't you?' 'The BIG HOUSE, little sister.'

Now I KNOW what the big house is. I've visited Steve there more than once. I don't remember it being pretty or very fresh smelling. And if I recall correctly, it's located quite near the poor house as well. A shoddy neighborhood that we have to go through to take Steve cookies on weekends. The dog, the dog, Oh God it's the dog. I forgot all about him. 'You've got guts kid, I'll give you that', Tom tells me. Not very reassuring when a 26 year old is in awe of your most recent crime.

I think this ends up being one of the few times where my dad actually hit me in anger. I could hear him coming down the stairs and decided it was best to meet him half way. That, and maybe I could get him to deal with me away from my brothers and sisters. Let me have a little pride. The man picked me up by my shoulders and met me nose to nose. My toes dangling 2 feet off the floor. Through gritted teeth 'What do you have to say for yourself'. I swear to you, his lips never moved.

Now you know as well as I do that this is a trick question. I'm screwed and I know it. I'm getting shipped out to the place with the metal bars. For ONCE in my life I chose to keep my mouth shut. And it just may have saved my life. 'Do you know what diarrhea is?' he asks me. Are you kidding? I'm seven. Of course I know what diarrhea is. It's when you eat a pound of bing cherries when nobody is looking.

He commenced yelling. And to be honest here, I was so totally terrified at this point I can only remember pieces of it. Something about diarrhea, fleas, intestinal worms, and a quick education regarding the differences between girl dogs and boy dogs, and the way they go tinkle. Now that it is quiet, I can hear mom yelling. Something about her wanting me OUT OF THE HOUSE TONIGHT. She doesn't care where, as long as I'm not coming back.

There is only one thing that my seven year old terrified self could say. 'Daddy? Will you come with me so that I'm not lonely? I whisper. It's all I can choke out. He sat down on the floor and pulled me into his lap.

Now I would like to say a kind word about my brother Steve here, and the benefits of having a jailbird brother. During my fathers meltdown he had gone and given mom two aspirin (vicodin) to help her deal with my sorry mess. She was passed out at the top of the stairs when dad dragged me up to look at the devastation. I was impressed to say the least. I will not go into the gory details of all that occurred that night. Suffice it to say that I stood to eat my meals for a fairly long time.

But now that I look back at that night, I see brother's point. We DO tend to make the same mistakes over and over again. I can see no less than a dozen stimes in my life where I have made this same huge grandiose mistake. The well meaning girl with the best intentions flying by the seat of her pants. Truly thinking that she is doing what is best for someone, and leaving a God awful mess in it's place. Never thinking about the consequences, as, how could there even BE any when you mean well?

It is 35 years later, and I think it's safe to assume that I'm not going to change all that much. And I may just have to admit that I used up my lifetime allotment of patient men in the first 15 years of my life. Is it even possible to find a man that can look past my actions and see the intent that is in my heart? A man that catch fetch a deep breath and find a way to laugh about my latest great idea. Who can see me as an adventure and not something to be broken or tamed. And that when I have gone to far, yet again, will come with me so that I won't be lonely.

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Blogs by LaughTillYaPuke: The Hunt Begins....Part 1 Better than Ice Cream Breathe Body in the Road Always the Hard Thing to Do Blood, Sweat and Tears Coming to an End Elusive Thief House of Cards Gypsy Queen The Gum Tree The Age of Reason Felonies and other Petty Crimes What are You Looking for Rattling the Bones Spit In the Eye of the Devil The Best Damn Wayside EVER Coming into My Own Daddy's Girl Enough Already Trees Around My Heart The Mother Tree Colors The Most Beautiful Place on Earth Mother Barn