The other day I was thinking, you know I probably have more crazy stories of my life than any other person alive. I will be doing something like filling the bathtub and it releases a memory from the bank. I think its high time I share these stories. I did some checking and the statute of limitations has run out on most the things I have done in my life and therefore I feel safe in releasing some of these tidbits to the masses. Remember that A lot of these things happened a long time ago. Please refrain from making rash judgments as to my mental stability now as I have matured quite a bit in the last 40 or so years. OK that’s a lie, but still in the interest of charity and entertainment, try not to judge me too harshly.
When I was 7 years old, we lived in Las Vegas. The hilltop apts to be exact. I’m not sure what they are called now but if you would like to see where I am talking about, Google street view has offered us clear picture of the apt.
Anyway, the memories are a tad fuzzy but I remember having this friend that lived a few apartments down from us. I can’t remember his name, so for the sake of story telling, lets call him Creelor. Creelor was in third grade and I was in first. This I remember clearly. Creelor was somewhat of a problem kid and was always trying to get me in trouble. I remember one day we were playing in the grass. I told him I had to go home and poop. He told me that I didn’t need to go home to poop, that he had figured out a good way to poop where ever you were without a toilet. He told me to just poop a little and then shake said poo out of my shorts and down my pants leg and onto the grass. Its stealthy and no one has to know. I remember standing there trying to judge how much I should poo to let out that would easily be shaken down my pants. It did work although I do remember having quite the poo trail down my leg when I got ready for bed that night. I remember my dad asking me why I smelled like poo. I lied and told him I farted.
One day Creelor and I were playing and we noticed that the apt on the first floor under his was vacant. We wondered if we could get in and tried the door. It was locked, but upon trying the window we were able to climb in that way. The apt was totally vacant and clean. We were running around and playing tag and at one point Creelor suggested we fill up the tub. He plugged it up and started filling. As it got towards the top, one of us suggested (I am quite sure it wasn’t me as this does not seem like something I nice boy like me would suggest) that we just let it overflow. Then there was discussion of filling the entire apt with water and making an indoor pool. So we went to every faucet in the apt, plugged it and turned the water on. We watched for I am sure was at least an hour while the apt filled with water. I think at its high water mark, we were at about 4″. We were running around splashing and kicking and sliding around like loons. I remember going to the refrigerator and getting out the crisper drawer. I got in it and was trying to paddle around the apt like I was in a boat. Creelor and I took turns pushing each other around in the crisper drawer. After a couple hours of playing in our apt pool we were running in circles in the living room and Creelor fell and cut his leg open on the crisper drawer. It was a huge gash clearly needing a lot of stitches. Creelor was screaming. Even in his panic we knew we needed a story or we were bound for prison. I told him to tell his mom that he fell down the stairs after playing in the apt sprinklers. We had to climb back out the window to get out of the apt because had we opened the door, the dam would have been released and we instantly busted. Creelor hobbled crying back to his apt and I back to mine. I was quite sure we were going to get busted and my life come to an immediate end. I clearly remember going into our apt and my dad asking me why I was soaked. I told him that we were playing in the sprinklers. That seemed to work as no other questions were asked. Later that evening while we were eating dinner, there was a knock at the door. It was the manager of the apartments, he asked my dad he anyone had seen anything today as there was an apt that was flooded and much damage done. Luckily for me, my dad didn’t piece together my suspicious mid day soaking with a flooded apt. He told him he hadn’t seen anything.
Creelor showed up at school the next day with his leg all stitched up. His mom had bought the stair story. Long story short, we never got busted for the apt pool. To be honest, I must have been one of the craftiest kids alive because I rarely got caught doing any of the many shenanigans I did as a kid.
This will be a new regular blog segment for a while. At least until I run out of stories to tell.