1) What is the worst memory of your siblings?
Having three younger brothers, I have a whole plethera of can-you-believe-he-did that/said that/threw that stories. I'm going to brush those aside though, as I'm sure they all have their own can-you-believe-she-did/that/said that/threw that stories about ME. Instead, I'll take the Debbie Downer route and regale you with the tale of how my oldest youngest brother, J (got that?), almost drowned. Uplifting, right?
When I was roughly around 3 years old, my mom worked the 3pm-11pm shift at the hospital. As a result, my brother and I were left at home with our dad. Brief backstory: The man was a raging alcoholic. Most of the time, he at least waited until we were in bed before getting completely shit-faced but there were a few times he drifted off into unconsciousness before we were tucked in. One night, he started a bath for J and me, plopped us in the tub, and left the room "for a minute". That minute stretched on and on and the water got higher and higher. I remember yelling for him to come turn it off but he didn't appear. I hopped out of the tub and went into the living room looking for him. He was out on the couch. I went back into the bathroom and that's when I saw my brother, who was a year and a half at the time. J had slipped back under the water and while trying his hardest to get up, the water was too high and instead he was just flailing about. I screamed for dad but nothing. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed my baby brother my his hair and hauled him over the side of the tub. He was out of it, but I kinda think the thud from falling over the side of the tub onto the floor knocked the water out of him. I was terrified (and obviously traumatized since I remember it so vividly), but he was okay. That is my worst memory of my sibling, thinking I was going to lose him.
2) What was YOUR naughtiest childhood memory? (Must be something YOU did, no pawning it off on someone else!)
This is a bad one. Looking back at it, it's no wonder my daughter is a little turd. Don't they say you get what you give, tenfold? I seem to remember my mom yelling that at me a lot when I was a kid. lol. Okay, so my mom and dad divorced shortly after the above incident (surprise, right?). She was still stuck working that 3-11 shift so my great-great aunt would drive into town and stay the night with us on the evenings my madre had to work. Let me preface this by saying my Aunt Cil was one of the sweetest most caring and loving individuals I've ever known. She'd give you the shirt off her back, no questions asked. Yet at one point I was six years old and at many points, I was a shithead. One evening my brother and I decided to play a practical joke. We had just read a book in school about practical jokes and I was obsessed with the idea. Somebody pooped. I can't remember who, I just know there was a big ol' floater in the toilet. I got the bright idea that it would be HILARIOUS to scoop the poop out of the comode, put it in a cup, and fill the cup with water. J was then going to ask Aunt Cil if she wanted her a drink, offering her the aforementioned cup o'poo. I must have thought it wasn't going to end well since I had J give her the cup, effectively taking credit for my prank. So the turd is in the cup, I send J on his way, and I wait, giggling, behind the wall. I see J offer my aunt the cup. I see her take it. I see her put it up to her mouth. And then I see her stop dead in her tracks. Thank GOD she didn't actually drink it. Things didn't go as I'd planned after that. Despite my genius idea that J would be the fall guy, Aunt Cil saw right through that one and came looking for me. And let me tell ya, that was one pissed off senior citizen. My sweet, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly aunt picked me up BY MY HAIR and beat my ass with a RULER. The wooden kind. No lie. It was my first (and last) brush with old school disclipline and it was pretty damn effective. Really, though - can ya blame her???
3) Where do you like to go to relax?
Oh, this one is so EASY! I have two places that just melt away my stress: my bathtub (when it is filled up with nice warm water and a butt-load of bubbles) and Target. No lie. Nothing calms me down like going to Target. I make excuses to go there. Like, "Oh hey, the kids are outta wipes. I gotta go to Target" even if, in fact, we have six refills of wipes sitting in the bins under Bug's changing table. Honestly, if it weren't for Target, I'd probably be in a padded room by now. Someone once asked me why I didn't get a job there (instead of my p/t gig at the mall) and I used this analogy: It would ruin it. Like finally having sex with your celebrity crush and then realizing they have the smallest penis you ever -barely, cuz it's soooo tiny -seen. I don't want to taint the fantasy.
4) What was the last thing you won?
$2 on a scratch-off Lotto card. How depressing. Somebody should award me a prize so I won't feel so bad about myself....
5) If you could go on a game show, which would you choose?
This is a great source of frustration for me but Wheel of Fortune. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that show. And I'm good at it. Reeeeaaaaalllllly good. People are constantly amazed by my mad puzzle solving skills. I'm like a Wheel prodigy.
Sadly though, the folks at WOF will never know that. 4 years ago (this weekend actually), The Wheel Mobile came to a town about 35 minutes away for a contestant search. I was elated. This was my chance! But no. Every other self-proclaimed Wheel prodigy within a 100 mile radius showed up. Wearing homemade t-shirts. Carrying signs. It was nuts. The line was longer than hell 10 minutes after the mall where they were holding "auditions" opened. The process went as follows: Stand in line. Get color-coded wristband. Fill out stupid questionaire they would judge you off of. Stand in line some more. Listen to people around you screaming in excitement. Stand around some more. There was a lot of standing. Finally get to the head of the line. Ushered like cattle into a game ring with hundreds of other people sporting the same color wristband. Cross your fingers they drew your questionaire out of a bin. If they did, you played a mini game on stage. They asked you dumb questions. Made you dance. Or sing. Said it DIDN'T MATTER WHO SOLVED THE PUZZLE b/c they were looking for personality. What?!?!? Now I know why they have some real dumbasses on that show though. Needless to say, my name was not drawn and I slunked back to my car for the loooong 35 minute drive home listening to DH bitch about how he'd wasted half his day for nothing. Yeah buddy, how do you think I felt? It was like learning there was no Santa all over again.
Lordy, I typed a book. What can I say, I like to talk. Now for your reading pleasure, go check out some strangers' answers. You know you want to, you creeper....