Thursday, January 6, 2011

Fried Eyebrows

It's amazing I'm still alive and still live in this country. I did a lot of really dumb things as a kid. You know, the kinds of things that are totally dangerous, and that made my parents want to ship me off to Siberia.

There were four of us who used to hang out together; Vi, Irene, my brother, and me. We played sand lot baseball, picked berries, weeded the vegetable garden, and were, all in all, pretty good kids, except when we decided to do something that, in our minds, was fun and cool, but was really hazardous to our well being. We had no clue about cause and effect.

One summer day we decided to build a campfire in the vacant lot next to a construction site. I ran home and found matches in the kitchen drawer, while my brother picked up some old newspapers. Vi and Irene grabbed a bag of  marshmallows from their kitchen cupboard, then we all worked together to gather long sticks for the roast. I tell you, it was a well orchestrated group worthy of CEO status. 

We were having a great time toasting marshmallows when an old paint can from the construction site caught my eye. I jogged over to the site, picked up the paint can, and brought it back to the fire. It was my idea to try and open the paint can so we could paint some weathered spots on our house. I tried as hard as I could to pry open the paint can lid, but it wouldn't come off. I did the next most logical thing a ten year old would do...I held it over the fire to melt the dried paint so the lid would come off.

To make a long story short, the lid blew off the can. All four of us were covered from head to toe with splatters of white paint. I fried my eyebrows and singed my hair. We were all in a heap of trouble, expecially me.

I went home, threw my clothes away and took a shower. My bangs were nothing but stubs sticking straight up from my forehead, and I didn't have much left of my eyebrows. At the dinner table that night my Dad said, "What happened to your hair?!" "Nothin'" "Whatdyamean, nothing?!" I was coerced into telling Dad what happened. He said, "Do you realize you could have been killed?!" And I said, "Yeah, but I wasn't, and it's no big deal anyway."

I got sent to my room for a very long time...which is where I learned to read and write and draw pretty pictures.  I'll always be thankful I didn't get sent to Siberia.

5 comments:

Ev Newton (Newt) said...

It's a wonder we all didn't get sent to Siberia or worse. But those of us who survived the Darwinian tests of childhood are the hope for the human race.
Newt

Pamela Beers. said...

You too, eh? Our generation has evoloved into a bunch of kick ass, tough old coots.

lightly said...

physically yes you have evolved, mentally i think there are lots of unanswered questions, based on the web pages of said cohorts including boob and randie we may have blown more than a few paint cans.

itsmecissy said...

Re the question "What happened to your hair?" I would have said "It's the new style" and then rolled my eyes.

Of course, I would have still gotten whooped but at least I'd have gotten to do the eyes-rolling-thing.

But alas, I was a perfect child and NEVER did anything wrong :o

Pamela Beers. said...

lightly: I think we're all a little off center, but that's what makes us special. Also, I think you meant to say "Bob" not "boob" unless you were thinking about the Manhattan Madam.

Itsme: My hair was actually singed with fried black specks on the ends. It was downright scary looking.

I did do an eyeroll, along with a "tsk", and my snide comment followed.

If you expect me to think you were a perfect child, then you must think I just fell off a turnip truck.