Thursday, April 15, 2010

boo (hoo)

The other day, we went to a certain adorable local bookstore for the first time. I had a strange, near-religious vision of a mural I want to paint there involving foxes and cravats, and the Biscuit chose a special wipe-off coloring placemat with traceable letters that has already paid for itself in quiet time.

Her friend, however, bought Little Miss Scary, one of those Mr./Miss books recently unearthed from the 1980's graveyard. We read it peacefully in a small town gazebo, and then the girls spent the rest of the day randomly and un-scarily screaming BOO! And then laughing.


Yes, sweetheart?


Don't BOO while I'm driving, honey. It's dangerous.

But mama?




Reminds me of one of the few moments of my life I regret. I was about 8 and loved practical jokes. Thank heavens for my mother, who knew very well that I saved one egg from the boiling pot at Easter. With the benign smile of the true martyr, she cracked that egg on her forehead every year as I tried unsuccessfully to stifle my giggles.

Anyway, our family was going on our weekly pilgrimage to the Wendy's Buffet-- you know, back when you paid $7 for a poorly lit salad bar with garlicky Wendy's buns, taco fixings, and institutional-style chocolate pudding? We loved it. And I had a great idea for a prank to pull on my mom, because I was an idiot.

Right as she sat down holding her tray, I kicked her chair out from under her, and she fell. I don't remember exactly what happened, just that I went from cackling hilarity to thoroughly embarrassed in a heartbeat. My parents weren't amused. I hadn't noticed the brick wall right behind her or thought about how she could have busted her head open.

I remember that everyone stared at us. But not in the "Dude, that was hilarious!" way that I had dreamed of. More of a "Boy, that's a stupid kid; those poor parents" sort of way.

That incident was one of those defining moments on the road to adulthood where you say, "Crap. I wish I hadn't done that. Nothing good could possibly come from that sort of shenanigans." It wasn't the end of my practical jokes; it was just the point at which I started to consider consequences and other peoples' feelings.

I guess that's just part of becoming an adult-- that, and realizing that farts, Jim Carrey, and Homey the Clown aren't actually funny. The Biscuit is only 3. There are many more BOOs and HOOs to come.


Leslie said...


Maggie S said...

You are wise and quite a storyteller.

Jennifer said...

But seriously, dude, farts are funny.

liza said...

Just found your blog through SITS!

Your story reminds me of when I was 5 and I thought it'd be funny to PINCH the BUTT of this random lady in front of us in line at a farmer's market in Los Angeles. The lesson? Not so funny.

I read your profile and you had me at "Mr. Wizard." I used to want dry ice SO BAD because of that man.

Glad to meet another funny lady!