There is a young couple at our church that has three young boys - all of which are really cute. It is the middle boy that is my favorite, probably because he is always into some sort of mess. He is also the one that will come up and talk to me. He has that really cute speech problem where kids use the W sound rather than L or R.
Anyway, his mom posts the funniest things on Facebook concerning her boys. Once she posted a picture of the middle boy covered in lipstick with the caption, "I turn my back for one minute." Yesterday, she posted a picture of him with bubble gum stuck all over his chest. She said it had been difficult to get off and she used oily makeup remover, but still had to scrape. He always looks so pitiful in these pictures. I always have to laugh.
The Bubble gum story brought back a memory from when I was about 14 years old - one of those things I hadn't thought of in forever. My siblings and I were staying with my grandparents in Mesquite, TX. My grandfather had a Phillpps 66 station off of US 67. They had a house just a couple of blocks away. My parents left all four of us kids there while they were both attending college classes - my dad was working on his doctorate at North Texas, while my mom was getting her teaching certificate to teach cosmetology by taking special classes at A&M. My grandparents not only took us four kids, but they also had my uncle and his family living with them - all in a small track house. Surprisingly, it was a good time.
The bubble gum is a vague memory. I can't remember how it got on my baby sister's belly, but someway, someone popped a bubble gum bubble on her belly. And it stuck there. I couldn't get it off of her. I had heard somewhere that you could use ice to harden the bubble gum and then it would peel off. So I got ice cubes and held my baby sister down and rubbed ice on her belly. She screamed lots, but I kept rubbing. Everyone came running. So much for taking care of the problem and keeping out of trouble. Actually, we did not get in trouble. That is the silly side of the family. Once I explained why I was rubbing ice on her belly, everyone laughed and laughed.
So yesterday, I called my sister and told her the story. Of course, she was only one or two years old at the time and does not remember, but we had a good laugh over it. I'm glad she survived being the baby in our family.
Here are some paintings that I have been doing for World Watercolor Month:
July 2
July 3
July 4
July 5
July 6
6 comments:
My dad brought home a big trunk. It was actually thin metal on the outside, heavy metal corners, and wood and wallpaper on the inside.
We had the idea of sticking our little brother in it and locking it.
It was great fun, as he was screaming for his life. Finally we let him out and called him a big cry-baby. We each took turns locking each other in the box.
Little brother is in his 60's now and still has nightmares. His wife asked us what the hell we did to him. We said it was just innocent fun, but I guess he really thought we were trying to kill him.
Later we put wheels on it and made a push go-kart, and we would push it off the sandy cliff with little brother, or one of the neighbor kids in it. I don't remember any severe injuries.
When I went to POW school in the Air Force, they put us in boxes and did all sorts of psychological things to make you think it was worse than it was. Yawn, I love small boxes. I found the whole thing ineffective.
My biggest problem was my leg went to sleep and I feared the loss of blood circulation. I faked a leg injury, so they ended the "torture" early.
Etienne,
I know lots of boy families that have similar stories. Boys are rough. My siblings and I were not really too hard on our little sister. There are things that I look back on and think, "Dang, that could have been a wreck!"
Love the bubble gum stories. I didn’t have siblings near my age so I was like an only child and relied on friends for getting in trouble. My sister was 7 years older and we shared a room, she hated it because I was messy and she was a neat freak. She always did all the chores because I dawdled and she was impatient. Ha.
The paintings are super. Good for you for taking on the challenge. You know which ones are my favorites. The house in the middle looks like Questa. You really captured the adobe, old wood and old tin on the last one. All are beautiful. Thanks for sharing them. I’m studying how to do the last one….
Thanks, Jo, I'm enjoying the watercolor time, although they are all small paintings right now. So did your sister ever do anything to you like the bubble gum belly story? Did she ever put you on the cross-bar of her bike and go down a steep, dangerous hill? No? I always had good intentions.
No, my sister was too serious. She would drag me to the movies when she had to. She braided my hair so tight it hurt so it would last a couple of days. Otherwise she ignored me. :-)
Jo,
I was married and gone by the time my sister was seven years old. We weren't really close until she became an adult. It was those first seven years that we were a little rough on her.
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