This is the first thing that came to mind… When I ate spaghetti, I slurped the noodles, getting sauce all over my face. I refused to wipe my face until I was done and I could go look in the mirror to see how messy I was.
In elementary school, I would constantly tell my teachers they were wrong when they were (if they were not, or if I didn’t know them to be incorrect, I voiced no opinion). For some reason, I couldn’t stand it when they would tell 20 other children one thing when I knew it to be another . . . and this happened quite frequently as I would point out the mildest of inaccuracies. I was a very well educated seven year old, and I figured that they should be more knowledgeable than me, and I was accused of being bit incredulous.
After some time, my mother was called to school to discuss this behavior.
She asked for specific examples, and then proceeded to tell the principal that yes, his teachers were in fact, wrong.
I was taken out of school early that day and was treated to a steak and ice cream.
This, I’m certain, was the impetus behind many issues that persist to this day . . .
I don’t know about the weirdest thing I did as a kid. Even if I could think of it, I certainly wouldn’t share it with you weirdos; but here’s something weird I used to do as a kid.
I would full on dance/sing to every song in The Little Mermaid. Through the credits, even. I think this continued into jr high. Sebastian’s parts of Under the Sea were my JAM.
When I say dance, I don’t mean the kid butt shake dance. I mean like, rave out dance. I had certain moves that were choreographed for certain parts. I did a crabwalk through part of a song. I DANCED MY LITTLE ASS OFF.
@Thumperchick when visiting my wife’s family in Japan, we tend to go do karaoke together. It’s big there. Like real big. Each time we go we visit one of my wife’s old middle school friends, who is the ABSOLUTE WORST SINGER THAT I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. EVER. But she sure sings with all of her heart.
The hardest part is trying to keep a straight composure when she says “I dedicate this song to your love” and then proceeds to yell/sing…
I would make kind of odd Halloween costumes. When I was six, I wore my mother’s terry cloth beach coverup, a straw hat and very very red lipstick. I said, when asked, that I was a beach lady.
I have a feeling I’ve mentioned this before, but I got in trouble for ‘hacking’ the Apple ][s in elementary school. I was just so bored to tears by the damn fish game and all the dysentery, and I was already quite able to spell on an elevator… so I would boot the things into BASIC and code and mess with the machines. Which, I was already past, but beggars can’t be choosers. It turned into a fairly long-and-drawn-out process which the school didn’t really know how to handle, but it ultimately ended in more coding opportunities earlier in the system.
I did massive cleaning projects to surprise and delight my parents. For example, I once cleaned all of the grout on the tile kitchen/dining floor with a toothbrush while they were out, Cinderella style. I wish I still had that inclination to be so clean, although when the husband is out of town I do like to surprise him by doing some grand chore before he gets back. On my own, I’m kind of a slob…
@alexthegirl I used to do this too, with Cinderella on in the background, even. It paid off in highschool when I would escape socializing with my relatives during holidays by cleaning up all the dishes and the kitchen after meals, then my mom would buy me expensive thank you gifts. I started wrapping all her xmas presents for her, too.
I have a certain envy of these talents or habits. I am the sort who vows to clean, starts like a tornado, and then, after a very short time, gets bored and quits.
Long explanation on the lead up to this, which I’ll leave out for now. The most bizarre thing I did as a child is, unequivocally, dipping a finger in (what turned out to be) the feces of a bald eagle–feces which I then touched to my tongue to taste.
/giphy shocked bald eagle
As I’m reading these I’m realizing either I was a MUCH odder (and grosser) kid than I realized- or y’all are sandbagging-
Cuz most of what I’m reading are kinda quirky things, or one time things–
Cuz I had this crazy weird disgusting thing…
But I’ll tell ya what my brother did till he was like 12…maybe still does-who knows?
He would get up and either walk into
the corner of the room or into his closet and pee–
I don’t think that’s even THAT weird. Gross…definitely- but not all that weird-
OTOH what I was doing was just awful–
Have a lovely-
@akapl2002 my brother did the same thing. i had to clean it up every day because my mom thought it was my cat. eventually i got my brother to admit it though.
I used to sit cross-legged on my bed and rock… sometimes for hours. It wasn’t until I got married, that I stopped… didn’t want my husband to think (know) that I was crazy.
I used to hold war crimes tribunals for my brother’s GI Joe’s, and built a mass gallows for them with tiny yarn nooses hung from the slats of my bunk bed.
I don’t think the “Michael Jordan” girl was all that weird. It really wasn’t all that different from a flat Stanley project with the exception that she accompanied her flat Michael.
When I was about 6 or 7 years old I was watching TV and noticed that there was a pair of scissors sitting on the coffee table. I wondered what would happen if I used them to cut the power cord to the TV, while it was on and plugged in.
So, I did it.
Needless to say, I was a little shocked at what happened. There was a spark, the fuse (or circuit breaker, I am not sure what we had in that house) blew, the scissors had a nice little black mark on them, and I felt a little jolt.
Since the TV wasn’t working and the lights in the room were out, I proceeded to leave the house and go to my friend’s house next door to play. When my parents realized what had happened they were a little pissed, to say the least.
I had imaginary friends, which I understand isn’t actually that weird, and I recognized they were imaginary, so I wasn’t one of those kids who got mad if someone “sat” on the imaginary friend. What was weird was they all had the same name: the first letter was different, and the name ended in -olly. There were 26 imaginary friends, one for every letter of the alphabet. So, Aolly, Bolly, Colly, Dolly, […], Wolly, Xolly, Yolly, Zolly. Of these I think Molly was the one I played with the most, for some reason. Maybe not the weirdest thing I did, but it’s what’s coming to mind.
@connorbush chewed and ate the plastic salt n pepper shakers in preschool, causing me both to go to the hospital to have my stomache pumped as well having to repeat preschool.
Yes look everybody, it’s the kid who wasn’t smrt enough to graduate preschool the first go around.
can’t say for certain it was the salt shaker incident that held me back, but it likely didn’t help - that plus it happening during parent/teacher conferences.
@medz Not sure why I clicked the star, that’s mad gross and for what’s left of my sanity hope that was a joke.
If not, you win the ‘things I’d never admit to if not online but still probably shouldn’t have admitted to’ award. Congrats either way.
Stolen from my reddit response the other day, as I only received one reply and zero upvotes. Hoping for another like from @f00l
What’s the worst crime you ever commited before you turned ten?
r/AskReddit • Context
1 2d, 22h
Crimes before ten? I could write a book. I am the kid that stole from your family, dropped bottles of ink on your carpeting and raped your younger sister under the guise of ‘it’s just a game guys’.
My most memorable heist (though clearly not the worst) was concocted by my father. He, being the police chief of a small town and probably being a member of every upstanding community group he could join, was given the task of collecting the Salvation Army donation pots - those red ones pre christmas. From the time I was 4 until 10 (longer but this is for under 10 so…) he’d have me sort and wrap the coins. It was an unspoken rule that he’d be keeping the dollars but any coin I sorted was fair game. We called this my early christmas gift. He was never caught so F anyone that ever says crime doesn’t pay. My birthday gift was always like a mother f’n shopping spree at the evidence locker. That bowling ball you were hoping to get back after court? F off with all that I like to bowl. TMNT nes cartidge? If you needed it so bad maybe your dick parents shouldn’t have been arrested. What about that unwrapped teddy ruxpin - mine and I still have it. Come at me.
God I miss police corruption in its most pure yet comically innocent sense - all all of this unarmed police shooting these days kind of ruins it for the rest of us.
Oh and I shot and killed a bald eagle with a .22 when I was 7. Police were called, I’d hid the gun so the friend I was with got off with jack all claiming ignorance. I was grounded for 2 weeks. Like the Clinton scandals it’s always the cover-up that screws you over.
@f00l Let’s, for the sake of 5th amendment rights, just assume that at least 80% of that was for shock value and karma (neither of which occurred but).
I’ll outline what can be considered true and nonincriminating however.
Ink was found in a friend’s barn. He’d just moved, we were formerly neighbors. We both had 2 bottles of ink and while running up his stairs, one of my bottles leaked, leaving a black line running the entire length of his grey carpeted stairway. His older sister saw this in-action so no chance of denying it.
She scolded me, telling me that her family wasn’t rich like mine, and that ink stain just ruined their stairway.
To this day I’d imagine the ink line of shame remains.
I plead the 5th on the 2nd and 3rd part of that. But kids will be kids amirite?!
Middle paragraph is factually accurate. I have remorse about the coin part but not the evidence locker. I had real Christmas presents, but not a separate birthday gift. Plus, criminals or alleged at least. If anything, maybe those gifts were to be used in cases so there’s the potential that some of those gifts set someone free. Because, uno, TMNT nes cart was likely stolen or something.
Bald Eagle - also sadly a true story. We had been shooting the state bird prior to actually clipping the eagle. It was kind of like the time I shot out the windows of my uncle’s 4 roadrunners he was restoring (bb gun). In that scenario, a bit of fun shooting out barn windows quickly escallated, and same here.
Clear lack of judgement, elderly inhabitants of houses across the street called it in.
4 cruisers surrounded us and I dumped the gun in the water lillies. Not in the water, just far down enough that it would never be seen.
My friend was maybe 8, I was 9 so I can’t fault him for claiming ignorance and giving me up as both the shooter and where I’d hidden the gun.
It was a dick move to be shooting live animals in the first place, in town secondly, and finally for basically lying to 8 police officers.
Believe me the punishment didn’t fit the crime but how could it, other than being shot and killed myself multiple times. Would be similar to the White Bear episode of Black Mirror, I suppose.
I don’t consider myself a terrible person ‘just in retrospect’. I’ve cleaned up my act and work for a nonprofit as well volunteer 5 hours/day 3 times a week at an animal shelter as a certified trainer.
I’m still likely a dick if playing the long game though.
Any further questions that I’ve not given adequate detail to, which I haven’t marked as 5th, can and will be anwered in my search of yours and maybe others’ star, f00l.
I was a dick as a kid, AM(Almost anything).
@lysdexia
I assumed some shock value and some truth.
Every kid in the world has a story similar to the “ink” story.
I regret the eagle. I am betting you do, also.
I read a heartbreaking story about about (now Brig. Gen.) Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot (I suppose in The Right Stuff?). He grew up on a farm, and his 6 year old brother accidentally killed his 2 year old sister with a shotgun. It’s been decades since I read the book, but I believe, as the story is told, the parents talked to the kids at length, repeatedly, emphasizing that the death was not the fault of the 6 year old.
One of my brothers had a pre-school police incident with a BB gun, but no one was hurt, at least.
@f00l I too have heard of similar stories. A young man had his pre trial hearing the same day as me - charged with 1st degree murder.
His dad had been shot in the chest with a crossbow. He’d been startled as the story went, having found it in the attic as his father walked in on him.
Other factors involved, but if I remember correctly he plead down to manslaughter. I believe if not for the cover-up and earlier charges, he would have walked.
A weapon can really change the plot in a hurry for sure.
When I was 2-3 or so, I had a terrible fascination with combs. Hair combs. I would gather all the ones we had and arrange them artistically. People who wanted to fix their hair had to come to my room and get a comb.
At first I was upset when someone took back a comb. Then I realized a could gather them again! Fun! Mom eventually bought special combs for me, and hid the rest.
Unfortunately, I also gathered them from every house I visited. This was in an era when people commonly knew their neighbors fairly well and were in each other’s houses. And the blocks around our house were filled with playmates the same age, so I was always visiting or being visited. About once a week or so, Mom would take the extra combs I had acquired and hidden around the neighborhood, with me in hand, return the combs, and make me apologize. And she started watching to make sure I didn’t add to my collection by theft.
Then combs stopped being fascinating.
A bit older, and one brother and I figured out that if you let a light bulb get really hot, and then spit on it, your spit sizzles, then the light bulb explodes. We thought this was wonderful and made it a regular event until we were caught. Somehow, no one was hurt.
Ok, this one perhaps not so weird considering curiosity:
A neighborhood park had a street thru it and that street crossed over a stream within the park. All this surrounded by heavy park forest right down to the water, so no need for the city to mow. Under that street bridge, had been painted all sorts of enormous images of very explicit and stylized porn. These paintings were there for at least 3 decades. May still be there.
Both body part studies and “action shot” images in thick black paint silhouette. Now that I think back on it, the images were artistically slightly “bold-abstract”, and also rather aesthetically good. I kinda wish I knew who the painter was, if i assume an older kid in the area.
Every kid in the neighborhood knew about it. Not a single parent or other adult had a clue. We visited it and studied it almost weekly. Sometimes we would enact scenes (with clothes on) and speculate about the quality of our performances as compared to the real thing.
Needless to say, if any kid came to visit, that was the first stop on “the tour”.
This was long before the era of predator awareness (“be home before dark!”), and besides, when we went there, we always traveled as a pack. Kids were mostly outside then.
I still find it innocent, from my 6-year-old perspective.
Now…sigh…
Elementary school era
I had managed to achieve a horse. My friends and I decided that, since circus performers could ride standing on the horse’s back, we could too. We found out-of-site-of-adults places to practice.
Of course, not only did we lack training and equipment, our horses were not trained as circus horses, and were not bred for smoothness of gait and broadness of back. I think many circuses use Percherons or similar?
This went exactly how one would expect. We all fell, always, quickly, and it was absurdly, insanely dangerous. We tired of it almost immediately. Fortunately, no one had injuries so severe that the kid had to explain to parents. But we found other, more fun ways to spend time with one’s friends and one’s horse.
I had so much freedom. It almost seems incredible. Do only rural kids and farm kids have anything like that now? Somehow, no one I knew ever got seriously hurt by having the freedom to roam unsupervised all day in the summer, as long as you were in a pack, and your parents knew the other kids and thought they were ok. I think there were perhaps two broken bones from tree climbing, but those both happened in someone’s back yard. The real injuries I know of happened during supervised sports.
In comparison to the kids I know of today, my childhood seems almost close to Tom Sawyer’s. I suppose horrible things could have happened when we were out together. We got lucky. They didn’t.
@f00l Your fascination with combs was about the only thing worrying to me. But then I guess maybe we grew up in a similar era with farms and such.
We knew that bones could be broken, but risk is most of the fun.
But seriously, combs?
I hadn’t heard of such a fetish like that since discovering the darker side of the internet, one full of men who collect vintage vacuums. And not even for the higher level of suction that a person could get into trouble for, but rather because they enjoyed the art of cleaning floors.
I guess combs are alright in comparison…
@lysdexia
And I was two. And I think the various colors of plastic were what fascinated me. Every color you could imagine. Practically a Crayola box for preparing one’s appearance. I was into color.
@f00l I guess I can understand that then. Plastic plus colors (and the occasional bit of hair and or lice), would have been something at that age to be chewed on. I think you must have been vastly more mature by then! Having the mindset of a hoarder before even going to school.
@f00l * I suppose horrible things could have happened when we were out together. We got lucky. They didn’t.
I feel the same. The closest I really came to danger was a homeless man, at the edge of town near a forest (as well my house) asking me for directions.
I was probably 5 at the time, and fortunate for me or unfortunate for him, my dad was returning home to witness it.
I’ve witnessed my father kill two men, the second time on our yearly summer trip to Branson.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6 at the time, eating at Wendy’s. I’d gone to the restroom and could hear a young boy crying for help as his dad beat him, throwing him head first into the walls of the stall.
I walked out and let my dad know what I’d heard, he had me follow him in to witness the beating of a lifetime. The guy didn’t have a chance, left bloodied and foot stomped on the toilet bowl.
Needless to say we didn’t finish eating, but did have a good rest of the day spending it with Daisy Mae in Booger Holler Arkansas. Those boobs…
@lysdexia
At first I was going to say that your Dad literally killed two men and you witnessed it. I take it that you intended to use a figure of speech.
I think your Dad might have considered other options, but at least he intervened.
I once encountered something like that. I was alone, biking home from someplace. School? Orchestra late rehearsal? And I heard a kid crying and the blows were so loud I could hear them. Could hear a grown man yelling. down the block. Daytime. Perhaps everyone was out in nearby houses? I was perhaps 12? Maybe 13? And did not know how to fight, tho I could take a punch, or thought I could.
Safe neighborhood, more or less. I prob would not have had any courage, otherwise, but I would likely have not been alone an an unsafe neighborhood.
At first I was so scared I turned around to go another way. And could not do it. I just had to do something. So I started walking the bike that way, and yelled, “is somebody hurt?” The beating stopped. I yelled again. I was shaking with fear. Two houses, and there they were by the side of the house. What I presume were a Dad and his son or step-son, who looked perhaps 3rd grade. The kid was bit bloody, bruised, messed up nose, crying. The man said the kid had fallen. I asked him if the kid needed a hospital; the man said no, he was ok.
I left. Got on the bike and took off. Was terrified all the way home: that the guy was after me; that the beating had resumed the moment I was gone. Thought I was a coward. Couldn’t see what I could have done.
Got home. Told my Mom, she started to yell at me and then stopped immediately, in a nano-second, and said, “come on”. We got into the car and drove to the house, I pointed it out. No one in sight, all quiet.
We drive to the nearest business and she called the cops. They came, talked to her, talked to me, and then we went home.
Later, the cops came to our house. They said they hadn’t told the man I was involved, but rather, that a neighbor had called a complaint. The man said the kid had gone out with his wife. He let them look thru the house.
The cops told us there were going to have “several conversations” with the man. And they would find the kid and Mom and talk with them. told me not to go down that block anymore, because the man might recognize me. Same thing mom said.
Also they also told me if I ever encountered anything like that again, not to intervene. Just light out for the nearest phone and call the police. Or knock on a neighbor’s door and get the neighbor to call if I felt safe doing that. (different era).
@f00l I honestly wouldn’t have been as brave as you. I mean I also have this thing where I can take a punch and instant adrenaline kicks in preventing any pain.
But to walk into danger like that, seems extremely courageous to me.
This is something that should be taught in school, and maybe rather than the late night psa’s about drugs on CNN they should have psa’s for adults on what they should do if they witness someone in danger. Sure there’s the constant psa of if you see something, say something - but perhaps rather than creating a society of secret police, we could be learning to all be a little more like you.
@lysdexia
It was an era when it was not unusual for a kid to be coming home from school, on a bike, alone.
And the way the man looked at me - that terrified me. I didn’t really intervene, not directly. I was going down the block anyway. The guy was creating a public scene. And it was a more polite and restrained time, in terms of neighborhoods - people had more fear of causing problems. And were perhaps less savvy about hiding those they caused? That guy would have likely been fearful of his neighbors.
Now - the guy would have the savvy to beat the kid indoors. And bully the kid into a cover story. I’m not sure kids of 12 still bike home alone anymore because of late orchestra.
And I would have a cell phone or something. (Cell phones didn’t exist then.) And perhaps more likely that the wife or teachers or someone would have reported, or the neighbors, if the guy slipped up. Or perhaps the kid himself would have spoken. I was well less than 100 pounds at the time. I could not have stopped the man - I had no savvy with rock throwing or slingshots or similar.
If I had a kid that age, I would advise hitting the cell phone asap I guess. And perhaps screaming, in order to bring out some neighbors. I sure wouldn’t want my kid to deal physically or by intimidation with an adult who is likely well practiced in his personal darkness. I guess if my kid had the guts and came out ok, I would be s little proud, and quite worried. I wouldn’t want my kid to think that was easy to pull off every time, far from it. And I wouldn’t want my kid to think that was one’s best choice of action.
I didn’t, and don’t, feel I had courage. Or that I was smart. Or that I fixed something. More that I couldn’t do nothing.
@f00l * I didn’t, and don’t, feel I had courage. Or that I was smart. Or that I fixed something. More that I couldn’t do nothing.
I’ll bet that most Adults can remember a time, as Adults, that they were in similar situations and did nothing. Child abuse only occurs for the most part (in public) because more people don’t have your feeling of ‘I couldn’t do nothing’.
My dad, as you probably realize, had an exaggerated form of your courage. Ok extremely exaggerated lol. Maybe not courage either, I think he sought out confrontation. That may be why he was the president of the police chiefs of America for near a decade. Bunch of dicks with too much power. Way off topic…
I’m not saying what you did was safe and probably would never recommend what you did to a child, just that a bully be it in school or a sob beating his kid shouldn’t just get away with it. And you stepped up when you didn’t necessarily have to, which to me is courageous.
@RiotDemon I used to put my hair in as many pony/pig/whatevertails as possible, my head looked like a deranged porcupine. I wasn’t allowed to watch Mr. Rogers (not a thing I did, but weird). My sister tried to spring me from elementary school once so we could have a day of bonding but I thought I’d get in trouble so I just cried and cried and stayed in school; that was awkward for her. My ratty stuffed dog was named Liberty because I wanted to be the Statue of Liberty when I grew up. While it has now evolved to pink, my favorite color at the time was purple. One time I was playing the (terrible) E.T. Atari 2600 game in the basement, and it glitched out, and I was so terrified I wouldn’t go down to my beloved 2600, C64, and TI99/4A for weeks.
I hope one of these things brings you a small chunk of levity.
@lysdexia Oh, I mean just playing it was a terrible experience. This was just a weird ghost that haunted my whatever-year-old self to the core.
In seriousness, it’s a really strong memory for me; it was genuinely terrifying at the time. And… I was already getting pretty familiar with Pre-ANSI C and FORTRAN, I had some computing knowledge tucked between my legs. But I guess I didn’t yet have this down-to-the-metal understanding, that there was this real connection between hardware and software and any possible error state could cause shitRoutine() to happen and… you know, who knows what comes next. That one was memorable for making me understand how the pieces all really fit together. After I got over the indisputable fact that my 2600 was haunted.
@brhfl So you could say that E.T. helped educate you and helped in your learning pursuit. Rather than books, you had real world experience to draw from.
But yeah it scared me too but tbh I wasn’t clever enough to make sense of it or have the passion to pursue it.
This is the first thing that came to mind… When I ate spaghetti, I slurped the noodles, getting sauce all over my face. I refused to wipe my face until I was done and I could go look in the mirror to see how messy I was.
@RiotDemon Mad bonus points if you still do it.
@Pavlov I’ll never tell!
In elementary school, I would constantly tell my teachers they were wrong when they were (if they were not, or if I didn’t know them to be incorrect, I voiced no opinion). For some reason, I couldn’t stand it when they would tell 20 other children one thing when I knew it to be another . . . and this happened quite frequently as I would point out the mildest of inaccuracies. I was a very well educated seven year old, and I figured that they should be more knowledgeable than me, and I was accused of being bit incredulous.
After some time, my mother was called to school to discuss this behavior.
She asked for specific examples, and then proceeded to tell the principal that yes, his teachers were in fact, wrong.
I was taken out of school early that day and was treated to a steak and ice cream.
This, I’m certain, was the impetus behind many issues that persist to this day . . .
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
@Pavlov “There are 206 bones, not 200!” “The number of grains of sand in the desert is finite, not infinite!”
@walarney @Pavlov ‘and Pluto is not a fucking planet!!’
(ducks)
@walarney 270 at birth
@brhfl Pluto is a planet - a dwarf planet. But call a short man a dwarf and he might head-butt your balls. So I guess it is a “little” planet.
@Pavlov #humblebrag
@tHumperChick
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
@Pavlov @tHumperChick youse guys crak me up (said in a mid-west accent, like peter jennings)
@Pavlov explains sooooo much
As part of a small group, I recorded a christian music album. We toured for a few months.
Anyone who knows me knows I never seen, especially religious music.
@conandlibrarian Are you me? I did the same, except we never really toured. I think I still have a case of cassette tapes around somewhere.
@salaosantiago
/giphy maybe
Anyone notice that @hollboll never said what weirdo thing she did as a kid?
/giphy TRICKERY
^^ This giphy makes me happy.
I don’t know about the weirdest thing I did as a kid. Even if I could think of it, I certainly wouldn’t share it with you weirdos; but here’s something weird I used to do as a kid.
I would full on dance/sing to every song in The Little Mermaid. Through the credits, even. I think this continued into jr high. Sebastian’s parts of Under the Sea were my JAM.
When I say dance, I don’t mean the kid butt shake dance. I mean like, rave out dance. I had certain moves that were choreographed for certain parts. I did a crabwalk through part of a song. I DANCED MY LITTLE ASS OFF.
To make things better - I am a terrible dancer.
@Thumperchick Sounds like an average Saturday night to me…
@brhfl I do have an unhealthy love of karaoke.
@Thumperchick when visiting my wife’s family in Japan, we tend to go do karaoke together. It’s big there. Like real big. Each time we go we visit one of my wife’s old middle school friends, who is the ABSOLUTE WORST SINGER THAT I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. EVER. But she sure sings with all of her heart.
The hardest part is trying to keep a straight composure when she says “I dedicate this song to your love” and then proceeds to yell/sing…
I would make kind of odd Halloween costumes. When I was six, I wore my mother’s terry cloth beach coverup, a straw hat and very very red lipstick. I said, when asked, that I was a beach lady.
I have a feeling I’ve mentioned this before, but I got in trouble for ‘hacking’ the Apple ][s in elementary school. I was just so bored to tears by the damn fish game and all the dysentery, and I was already quite able to spell on an elevator… so I would boot the things into BASIC and code and mess with the machines. Which, I was already past, but beggars can’t be choosers. It turned into a fairly long-and-drawn-out process which the school didn’t really know how to handle, but it ultimately ended in more coding opportunities earlier in the system.
I did massive cleaning projects to surprise and delight my parents. For example, I once cleaned all of the grout on the tile kitchen/dining floor with a toothbrush while they were out, Cinderella style. I wish I still had that inclination to be so clean, although when the husband is out of town I do like to surprise him by doing some grand chore before he gets back. On my own, I’m kind of a slob…
@alexthegirl I used to do this too, with Cinderella on in the background, even. It paid off in highschool when I would escape socializing with my relatives during holidays by cleaning up all the dishes and the kitchen after meals, then my mom would buy me expensive thank you gifts. I started wrapping all her xmas presents for her, too.
@HemlockTea
@alexthegirl
I have a certain envy of these talents or habits. I am the sort who vows to clean, starts like a tornado, and then, after a very short time, gets bored and quits.
@f00l This happens to me when I’m cleaning up for myself. I love organizing other people’s things, and am even considering it as a side business.
Long explanation on the lead up to this, which I’ll leave out for now. The most bizarre thing I did as a child is, unequivocally, dipping a finger in (what turned out to be) the feces of a bald eagle–feces which I then touched to my tongue to taste.
/giphy shocked bald eagle
Also, if this were a contest, I would have just won.
/giphy poop winner
@elliedan Did you know what it was when you did that?
@elliedan From what I know about little kids, that’s actually pretty normal (tasting disgusting things).
Flirted with death on multiple occasions… And I had a pet balloon named Blueberry.
As I’m reading these I’m realizing either I was a MUCH odder (and grosser) kid than I realized- or y’all are sandbagging-
Cuz most of what I’m reading are kinda quirky things, or one time things–
Cuz I had this crazy weird disgusting thing…
But I’ll tell ya what my brother did till he was like 12…maybe still does-who knows?
He would get up and either walk into
the corner of the room or into his closet and pee–
I don’t think that’s even THAT weird. Gross…definitely- but not all that weird-
OTOH what I was doing was just awful–
Have a lovely-
@akapl2002 I guess you’re not going to tell us what it is?
/giphy curious
@akapl2002 my brother did the same thing. i had to clean it up every day because my mom thought it was my cat. eventually i got my brother to admit it though.
I used to sit cross-legged on my bed and rock… sometimes for hours. It wasn’t until I got married, that I stopped… didn’t want my husband to think (know) that I was crazy.
I used to hold war crimes tribunals for my brother’s GI Joe’s, and built a mass gallows for them with tiny yarn nooses hung from the slats of my bunk bed.
@HemlockTea
/giphy this
I ate paper.
I don’t think the “Michael Jordan” girl was all that weird. It really wasn’t all that different from a flat Stanley project with the exception that she accompanied her flat Michael.
I made good grades and didn’t smoke, drink or do drugs.
@DrWorm HOW DARE YOU?!
@DrWorm
When I was about 6 or 7 years old I was watching TV and noticed that there was a pair of scissors sitting on the coffee table. I wondered what would happen if I used them to cut the power cord to the TV, while it was on and plugged in.
So, I did it.
Needless to say, I was a little shocked at what happened. There was a spark, the fuse (or circuit breaker, I am not sure what we had in that house) blew, the scissors had a nice little black mark on them, and I felt a little jolt.
Since the TV wasn’t working and the lights in the room were out, I proceeded to leave the house and go to my friend’s house next door to play. When my parents realized what had happened they were a little pissed, to say the least.
I had imaginary friends, which I understand isn’t actually that weird, and I recognized they were imaginary, so I wasn’t one of those kids who got mad if someone “sat” on the imaginary friend. What was weird was they all had the same name: the first letter was different, and the name ended in -olly. There were 26 imaginary friends, one for every letter of the alphabet. So, Aolly, Bolly, Colly, Dolly, […], Wolly, Xolly, Yolly, Zolly. Of these I think Molly was the one I played with the most, for some reason. Maybe not the weirdest thing I did, but it’s what’s coming to mind.
Wait, maybe @hollboll is one of my imaginary friends!
/giphy unexpected plot twist
@jqubed I am sure Dolly got pretty jealous.
@jqubed my imaginary-friend-that-i-knew-was-imaginary was just named “It”. today i can’t fathom why i wouldn’t give him a real name.
btw, there was nothing scary about “It”… never heard of the scary “It” till much later.
@jqubed Neat! I’ve always wanted to be an imaginary friend!
@jqubed
/giphy imaginary friends
Chew on the legs of wooden chairs in my dining room…
@connorbush
Chew the calluses on my mom’s feet.
@connorbush chewed and ate the plastic salt n pepper shakers in preschool, causing me both to go to the hospital to have my stomache pumped as well having to repeat preschool.
Yes look everybody, it’s the kid who wasn’t smrt enough to graduate preschool the first go around.
@medz Not sure why I clicked the star, that’s mad gross and for what’s left of my sanity hope that was a joke.
If not, you win the ‘things I’d never admit to if not online but still probably shouldn’t have admitted to’ award. Congrats either way.
Survived.
Stolen from my reddit response the other day, as I only received one reply and zero upvotes. Hoping for another like from @f00l
What’s the worst crime you ever commited before you turned ten?
r/AskReddit • Context
1 2d, 22h
Crimes before ten? I could write a book. I am the kid that stole from your family, dropped bottles of ink on your carpeting and raped your younger sister under the guise of ‘it’s just a game guys’.
My most memorable heist (though clearly not the worst) was concocted by my father. He, being the police chief of a small town and probably being a member of every upstanding community group he could join, was given the task of collecting the Salvation Army donation pots - those red ones pre christmas. From the time I was 4 until 10 (longer but this is for under 10 so…) he’d have me sort and wrap the coins. It was an unspoken rule that he’d be keeping the dollars but any coin I sorted was fair game. We called this my early christmas gift. He was never caught so F anyone that ever says crime doesn’t pay. My birthday gift was always like a mother f’n shopping spree at the evidence locker. That bowling ball you were hoping to get back after court? F off with all that I like to bowl. TMNT nes cartidge? If you needed it so bad maybe your dick parents shouldn’t have been arrested. What about that unwrapped teddy ruxpin - mine and I still have it. Come at me.
God I miss police corruption in its most pure yet comically innocent sense - all all of this unarmed police shooting these days kind of ruins it for the rest of us.
Oh and I shot and killed a bald eagle with a .22 when I was 7. Police were called, I’d hid the gun so the friend I was with got off with jack all claiming ignorance. I was grounded for 2 weeks. Like the Clinton scandals it’s always the cover-up that screws you over.
@lysdexia
Before i make a star decision: should we assume that the first paragraph was stuff you actually did? Or no?
Also, more details on the @Eagle incident", pls.
I have no issue with the coin portion of the “quality time with Dad” story, provided that you have chosen not to continue the tradition.
The rest of that story could also use some elaboration.
@f00l Let’s, for the sake of 5th amendment rights, just assume that at least 80% of that was for shock value and karma (neither of which occurred but).
I’ll outline what can be considered true and nonincriminating however.
She scolded me, telling me that her family wasn’t rich like mine, and that ink stain just ruined their stairway.
To this day I’d imagine the ink line of shame remains.
I plead the 5th on the 2nd and 3rd part of that. But kids will be kids amirite?!
Middle paragraph is factually accurate. I have remorse about the coin part but not the evidence locker. I had real Christmas presents, but not a separate birthday gift. Plus, criminals or alleged at least. If anything, maybe those gifts were to be used in cases so there’s the potential that some of those gifts set someone free. Because, uno, TMNT nes cart was likely stolen or something.
Bald Eagle - also sadly a true story. We had been shooting the state bird prior to actually clipping the eagle. It was kind of like the time I shot out the windows of my uncle’s 4 roadrunners he was restoring (bb gun). In that scenario, a bit of fun shooting out barn windows quickly escallated, and same here.
Clear lack of judgement, elderly inhabitants of houses across the street called it in.
4 cruisers surrounded us and I dumped the gun in the water lillies. Not in the water, just far down enough that it would never be seen.
My friend was maybe 8, I was 9 so I can’t fault him for claiming ignorance and giving me up as both the shooter and where I’d hidden the gun.
It was a dick move to be shooting live animals in the first place, in town secondly, and finally for basically lying to 8 police officers.
Believe me the punishment didn’t fit the crime but how could it, other than being shot and killed myself multiple times. Would be similar to the White Bear episode of Black Mirror, I suppose.
I don’t consider myself a terrible person ‘just in retrospect’. I’ve cleaned up my act and work for a nonprofit as well volunteer 5 hours/day 3 times a week at an animal shelter as a certified trainer.
I’m still likely a dick if playing the long game though.
Any further questions that I’ve not given adequate detail to, which I haven’t marked as 5th, can and will be anwered in my search of yours and maybe others’ star, f00l.
I was a dick as a kid, AM(Almost anything).
@lysdexia
I assumed some shock value and some truth.
Every kid in the world has a story similar to the “ink” story.
I regret the eagle. I am betting you do, also.
I read a heartbreaking story about about (now Brig. Gen.) Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot (I suppose in The Right Stuff?). He grew up on a farm, and his 6 year old brother accidentally killed his 2 year old sister with a shotgun. It’s been decades since I read the book, but I believe, as the story is told, the parents talked to the kids at length, repeatedly, emphasizing that the death was not the fault of the 6 year old.
One of my brothers had a pre-school police incident with a BB gun, but no one was hurt, at least.
Kids and guns.
@f00l I too have heard of similar stories. A young man had his pre trial hearing the same day as me - charged with 1st degree murder.
His dad had been shot in the chest with a crossbow. He’d been startled as the story went, having found it in the attic as his father walked in on him.
Other factors involved, but if I remember correctly he plead down to manslaughter. I believe if not for the cover-up and earlier charges, he would have walked.
A weapon can really change the plot in a hurry for sure.
I am sure I am not remembering “the good stuff”.
When I was 2-3 or so, I had a terrible fascination with combs. Hair combs. I would gather all the ones we had and arrange them artistically. People who wanted to fix their hair had to come to my room and get a comb.
At first I was upset when someone took back a comb. Then I realized a could gather them again! Fun! Mom eventually bought special combs for me, and hid the rest.
Unfortunately, I also gathered them from every house I visited. This was in an era when people commonly knew their neighbors fairly well and were in each other’s houses. And the blocks around our house were filled with playmates the same age, so I was always visiting or being visited. About once a week or so, Mom would take the extra combs I had acquired and hidden around the neighborhood, with me in hand, return the combs, and make me apologize. And she started watching to make sure I didn’t add to my collection by theft.
Then combs stopped being fascinating.
A bit older, and one brother and I figured out that if you let a light bulb get really hot, and then spit on it, your spit sizzles, then the light bulb explodes. We thought this was wonderful and made it a regular event until we were caught. Somehow, no one was hurt.
Ok, this one perhaps not so weird considering curiosity:
A neighborhood park had a street thru it and that street crossed over a stream within the park. All this surrounded by heavy park forest right down to the water, so no need for the city to mow. Under that street bridge, had been painted all sorts of enormous images of very explicit and stylized porn. These paintings were there for at least 3 decades. May still be there.
Both body part studies and “action shot” images in thick black paint silhouette. Now that I think back on it, the images were artistically slightly “bold-abstract”, and also rather aesthetically good. I kinda wish I knew who the painter was, if i assume an older kid in the area.
Every kid in the neighborhood knew about it. Not a single parent or other adult had a clue. We visited it and studied it almost weekly. Sometimes we would enact scenes (with clothes on) and speculate about the quality of our performances as compared to the real thing.
Needless to say, if any kid came to visit, that was the first stop on “the tour”.
This was long before the era of predator awareness (“be home before dark!”), and besides, when we went there, we always traveled as a pack. Kids were mostly outside then.
I still find it innocent, from my 6-year-old perspective.
Now…sigh…
Elementary school era
I had managed to achieve a horse. My friends and I decided that, since circus performers could ride standing on the horse’s back, we could too. We found out-of-site-of-adults places to practice.
Of course, not only did we lack training and equipment, our horses were not trained as circus horses, and were not bred for smoothness of gait and broadness of back. I think many circuses use Percherons or similar?
This went exactly how one would expect. We all fell, always, quickly, and it was absurdly, insanely dangerous. We tired of it almost immediately. Fortunately, no one had injuries so severe that the kid had to explain to parents. But we found other, more fun ways to spend time with one’s friends and one’s horse.
I had so much freedom. It almost seems incredible. Do only rural kids and farm kids have anything like that now? Somehow, no one I knew ever got seriously hurt by having the freedom to roam unsupervised all day in the summer, as long as you were in a pack, and your parents knew the other kids and thought they were ok. I think there were perhaps two broken bones from tree climbing, but those both happened in someone’s back yard. The real injuries I know of happened during supervised sports.
In comparison to the kids I know of today, my childhood seems almost close to Tom Sawyer’s. I suppose horrible things could have happened when we were out together. We got lucky. They didn’t.
@f00l Your fascination with combs was about the only thing worrying to me. But then I guess maybe we grew up in a similar era with farms and such.
We knew that bones could be broken, but risk is most of the fun.
But seriously, combs?
I hadn’t heard of such a fetish like that since discovering the darker side of the internet, one full of men who collect vintage vacuums. And not even for the higher level of suction that a person could get into trouble for, but rather because they enjoyed the art of cleaning floors.
I guess combs are alright in comparison…
@lysdexia
And I was two. And I think the various colors of plastic were what fascinated me. Every color you could imagine. Practically a Crayola box for preparing one’s appearance. I was into color.
@f00l I guess I can understand that then. Plastic plus colors (and the occasional bit of hair and or lice), would have been something at that age to be chewed on. I think you must have been vastly more mature by then! Having the mindset of a hoarder before even going to school.
@f00l * I suppose horrible things could have happened when we were out together. We got lucky. They didn’t.
I feel the same. The closest I really came to danger was a homeless man, at the edge of town near a forest (as well my house) asking me for directions.
I was probably 5 at the time, and fortunate for me or unfortunate for him, my dad was returning home to witness it.
I’ve witnessed my father kill two men, the second time on our yearly summer trip to Branson.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6 at the time, eating at Wendy’s. I’d gone to the restroom and could hear a young boy crying for help as his dad beat him, throwing him head first into the walls of the stall.
I walked out and let my dad know what I’d heard, he had me follow him in to witness the beating of a lifetime. The guy didn’t have a chance, left bloodied and foot stomped on the toilet bowl.
Needless to say we didn’t finish eating, but did have a good rest of the day spending it with Daisy Mae in Booger Holler Arkansas. Those boobs…
@lysdexia
At first I was going to say that your Dad literally killed two men and you witnessed it. I take it that you intended to use a figure of speech.
I think your Dad might have considered other options, but at least he intervened.
I once encountered something like that. I was alone, biking home from someplace. School? Orchestra late rehearsal? And I heard a kid crying and the blows were so loud I could hear them. Could hear a grown man yelling. down the block. Daytime. Perhaps everyone was out in nearby houses? I was perhaps 12? Maybe 13? And did not know how to fight, tho I could take a punch, or thought I could.
Safe neighborhood, more or less. I prob would not have had any courage, otherwise, but I would likely have not been alone an an unsafe neighborhood.
At first I was so scared I turned around to go another way. And could not do it. I just had to do something. So I started walking the bike that way, and yelled, “is somebody hurt?” The beating stopped. I yelled again. I was shaking with fear. Two houses, and there they were by the side of the house. What I presume were a Dad and his son or step-son, who looked perhaps 3rd grade. The kid was bit bloody, bruised, messed up nose, crying. The man said the kid had fallen. I asked him if the kid needed a hospital; the man said no, he was ok.
I left. Got on the bike and took off. Was terrified all the way home: that the guy was after me; that the beating had resumed the moment I was gone. Thought I was a coward. Couldn’t see what I could have done.
Got home. Told my Mom, she started to yell at me and then stopped immediately, in a nano-second, and said, “come on”. We got into the car and drove to the house, I pointed it out. No one in sight, all quiet.
We drive to the nearest business and she called the cops. They came, talked to her, talked to me, and then we went home.
Later, the cops came to our house. They said they hadn’t told the man I was involved, but rather, that a neighbor had called a complaint. The man said the kid had gone out with his wife. He let them look thru the house.
The cops told us there were going to have “several conversations” with the man. And they would find the kid and Mom and talk with them. told me not to go down that block anymore, because the man might recognize me. Same thing mom said.
Also they also told me if I ever encountered anything like that again, not to intervene. Just light out for the nearest phone and call the police. Or knock on a neighbor’s door and get the neighbor to call if I felt safe doing that. (different era).
@f00l@f00l No, he literally killed two men in front of me.
Small town, mob connected, way too much authority for one man.
@f00l I honestly wouldn’t have been as brave as you. I mean I also have this thing where I can take a punch and instant adrenaline kicks in preventing any pain.
But to walk into danger like that, seems extremely courageous to me.
This is something that should be taught in school, and maybe rather than the late night psa’s about drugs on CNN they should have psa’s for adults on what they should do if they witness someone in danger. Sure there’s the constant psa of if you see something, say something - but perhaps rather than creating a society of secret police, we could be learning to all be a little more like you.
@lysdexia
It was an era when it was not unusual for a kid to be coming home from school, on a bike, alone.
And the way the man looked at me - that terrified me. I didn’t really intervene, not directly. I was going down the block anyway. The guy was creating a public scene. And it was a more polite and restrained time, in terms of neighborhoods - people had more fear of causing problems. And were perhaps less savvy about hiding those they caused? That guy would have likely been fearful of his neighbors.
Now - the guy would have the savvy to beat the kid indoors. And bully the kid into a cover story. I’m not sure kids of 12 still bike home alone anymore because of late orchestra.
And I would have a cell phone or something. (Cell phones didn’t exist then.) And perhaps more likely that the wife or teachers or someone would have reported, or the neighbors, if the guy slipped up. Or perhaps the kid himself would have spoken. I was well less than 100 pounds at the time. I could not have stopped the man - I had no savvy with rock throwing or slingshots or similar.
If I had a kid that age, I would advise hitting the cell phone asap I guess. And perhaps screaming, in order to bring out some neighbors. I sure wouldn’t want my kid to deal physically or by intimidation with an adult who is likely well practiced in his personal darkness. I guess if my kid had the guts and came out ok, I would be s little proud, and quite worried. I wouldn’t want my kid to think that was easy to pull off every time, far from it. And I wouldn’t want my kid to think that was one’s best choice of action.
I didn’t, and don’t, feel I had courage. Or that I was smart. Or that I fixed something. More that I couldn’t do nothing.
I had forgotten all about this. Huh.
@f00l * I didn’t, and don’t, feel I had courage. Or that I was smart. Or that I fixed something. More that I couldn’t do nothing.
I’ll bet that most Adults can remember a time, as Adults, that they were in similar situations and did nothing. Child abuse only occurs for the most part (in public) because more people don’t have your feeling of ‘I couldn’t do nothing’.
My dad, as you probably realize, had an exaggerated form of your courage. Ok extremely exaggerated lol. Maybe not courage either, I think he sought out confrontation. That may be why he was the president of the police chiefs of America for near a decade. Bunch of dicks with too much power. Way off topic…
I’m not saying what you did was safe and probably would never recommend what you did to a child, just that a bully be it in school or a sob beating his kid shouldn’t just get away with it. And you stepped up when you didn’t necessarily have to, which to me is courageous.
I thought this thread was going to be quirky and fun… But damn did it take a turn.
@RiotDemon I used to put my hair in as many pony/pig/whatevertails as possible, my head looked like a deranged porcupine. I wasn’t allowed to watch Mr. Rogers (not a thing I did, but weird). My sister tried to spring me from elementary school once so we could have a day of bonding but I thought I’d get in trouble so I just cried and cried and stayed in school; that was awkward for her. My ratty stuffed dog was named Liberty because I wanted to be the Statue of Liberty when I grew up. While it has now evolved to pink, my favorite color at the time was purple. One time I was playing the (terrible) E.T. Atari 2600 game in the basement, and it glitched out, and I was so terrified I wouldn’t go down to my beloved 2600, C64, and TI99/4A for weeks.
I hope one of these things brings you a small chunk of levity.
@brhfl I found the glitches in E.T. to be part of the game. Cheer up, we all had terrible experiences with that game (those of us old enough).
@lysdexia Oh, I mean just playing it was a terrible experience. This was just a weird ghost that haunted my whatever-year-old self to the core.
In seriousness, it’s a really strong memory for me; it was genuinely terrifying at the time. And… I was already getting pretty familiar with Pre-ANSI C and FORTRAN, I had some computing knowledge tucked between my legs. But I guess I didn’t yet have this down-to-the-metal understanding, that there was this real connection between hardware and software and any possible error state could cause shitRoutine() to happen and… you know, who knows what comes next. That one was memorable for making me understand how the pieces all really fit together. After I got over the indisputable fact that my 2600 was haunted.
@brhfl So you could say that E.T. helped educate you and helped in your learning pursuit. Rather than books, you had real world experience to draw from.
But yeah it scared me too but tbh I wasn’t clever enough to make sense of it or have the passion to pursue it.
@brhfl
I skimmed your post as them page loaded. At first I thought you indicated that 2600 The Hacker Quarterly was haunted.
A little disappointed. Good story tho.