Friday, January 19, 2007

I Double Dog Dare You...

I love winter. Mostly. I love the snow and the winter sports. Even curling. I love how freshly fallen snow paints a new pristine landscape and erases the sins of yesterday. (Or at least covers the dog poop and McDonald's cups thrown out of the back of my car.) I love toques and scarves and stylish leather gloves. I have six winter coats, (Sorry Boo, you still love me right?) to alternate with what ever I happen to be wearing.

I love the feeling when it is very cold the air seems to bite your lungs when you inhale and the snow actually crunches beneath your feet. I love hurling myself and my children down steep hills on inner tubes and praying to God that we will walk away with our bones intact. I love how the sky looks at winter, and how the stars seem so especially bright. I love standing still while the snow gently falls to the earth and marvelling at how quiet and peaceful the world seems. As I stand there with my tongue out, trying to catch the fat, fluffy flakes, I am transported in time, once more ten years old and making angels in the snow; not a thirty-one year old mom with a big mastercard bill and a looming mortgage.

Of course, if I'm stuck inside for long periods of time with my children, I hate winter. Or if I manage to drive into a snowbank and get stuck, I really hate winter. Or if I fall on my ass in front of my kids, God and a group of goodlooking men while trying to walk in three inch stilettos across an icy parking lot and look cool, well I fu%*ing hate winter.

But I have great winter memories, growing up here in a winter wonderland. Snowmen, snow forts, tunnels, tobaggoning, watching my best friend ski into a tree and break her arm. Great memories. Like the time my dad was struggling to bring in supper (KFC I believe) and he slipped. The bag crashed to the ground and the gravy container popped open and splashed a bit on the outside of our metal screen door. Dad picked it up, brushed his bruised ass off and we dined like royalty that night.

That's not the great memory. No, we had two basset hounds at the time. They were begging and getting underfoot so Mom put them outside to relieve themselves and give us a break while we feasted like kings. A few minutes later we heard some whining and a ruckus so we opened the door to see what the commotion was about. Turns out one of the hounds discovered the gravy on the outside of the metal door and did what any dog would do. He licked it. And promptly regretted it.

No, opening that door to find my dog with his tongue stuck to the door will be a childhood memory I will forever cherish. And don't worry Mrs. Chicky, he wasn't injured. We grabbed some warm water and melted his tongue loose. While laughing our asses off.

Which of course brings me back to the time I was seven and a young, nose-picking child. It was recess and I was on the swings. I was working up a good sweat. Suddenly, the frost on the metal pole looked so enticing. So I had me a Dumb and Dumber moment. There I was stuck to the damn pole. Crying and panicking, while a large horde of children gathered about me and started to laugh and poke at me with sharp pointy sticks. (Well, okay, maybe not, but they may as well have for the scars on my soul from their verbal taunts are surely equal to that of being prodded by the pack of blood thirsty children.) My older brother walked through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea when Moses walked through it, and wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a good tug.

F*&ker. I was still attached to that damn pole and now my tongue was bleeding. As my brother was trying to amputate my tongue, some wonderful guardian angel (I think it was the fourth grade teacher) appeared with some water and saved me from having to have my tongue reattached.

I was teased about that for weeks until the next dumbass kid tried the same thing. Ahh, fond memories of surviving winter.

Which of course, leads me to the point of this post.

Guess what I did last night? Nope, I did not stick my tongue to a metal post. Or watch Nixon the World's Greatest Dog. Ever try to wrestle his tongue free from the front door.

I merely double dared my children to stick their tongues to the frosted side of our metal pool. And then I whipped out my camera to document this monumental moment of their childhood while laughing my ass off.

They survived, tongues intact, and now have their own winter war story to pass along to their kids.

Me, I'm still laughing my ass off.

I LOVE winter. But I love being an evil, masterminded mom even more.

***Sorry folks. I only publish pictures of my dead kids, not the ones with a pulse!!!***

18 Comments:

Blogger Mad Hatter said...

Evil genius.

For me, it was age 7 and the aluminum screen door to our house while waiting for the school bus. My brother dared me. Asswipe. The tongue got stuck, the school bus was approaching and I ripped my own flesh off in order to make it to school. For weeks, the screen door held the pink remnants of my gullibility frozen solid.

A couple of weeks ago I intercepted my not-yet two year old making the same mistake with a parking sign. She'll have her day yet.

Hi, btw, I've been here before but I haven't said hello in a long, long time.

10:09 AM  
Blogger Denice said...

I love it! Yet another thing to add to the list of things to do to my child when she gets here. If she ever gets here. She's sure taking her sweet timeā€¦

10:15 AM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

I hate winter so I try to avoid anything that involves snow and being cold.

My only childhood memories are during the blizzard of '76 [I think it was]after it had all settled down, me and the neighbor kids went sledding off the barn. I had to pee and I couldn't get my snowsuit down so I just pee'd my pants right there. It was warm. I liked it.

That's my only childhood memory of freezing my butt off.

Now when I get off of here I'm gonna call children's services and let them know what a great mom you are. You might wanna put some clothes on cause they'll surely be there when I tell them you not only double dog dared your children but you took pictures.

BEST.MOM.EVAH.

11:44 AM  
Blogger Mrs. Chicky said...

Oh no you DIDN'T. Evil woman.

But I laughed my ass off at the thought of your bassett hound stuck to the metal door. Who's howling now, eh suckah?

12:51 PM  
Blogger Ben & Bennie said...

Well? Do we get to see the picture?

1:40 PM  
Blogger J. said...

Where's the picture, oh evil one?

1:58 PM  
Blogger ECR said...

You paint quite the intoxicating picture of winter. But that's some Kool Aid I won't be drinking, thank you very much. I might actually start not to hate the cold, miserable season so much if I hang around this post too long. And then what would I have to complain about? ;)

2:16 PM  
Anonymous Liza said...

That's just the kind of thing I'd do to mine. I'd make them lick something metal so that they would experience the burning cold and the panic with me right there to pour the warm water from a thermos, rather than taking their chances on the school yard. And I'd laugh my arse off the whole time, and take VIDEO. Makes me kinda sorry it hasn't been cold enough here for anything like that. I only ever had one really cold winter as a child, and never did this, probably because I was indoctrinated with A Christmas Story (hey, you had Bumpass hounds! Me too!). Probably that'd be the kinder way to prevent this type of behavior. But not as funny. Not nearly as funny.

2:55 PM  
Anonymous roxylynn said...

Growing up in the same place as you, that is one thing I knew better not to do. I was witness to a few other kids on the school playground who were brave enough to stick their tongues to something cold and metal, and it always attracted quite the crowd.
I remember your puppies. That would have been the sight to see!! And from what I remember of them, it would have been something to hear as well! Makes me laugh!

7:07 PM  
Blogger Em said...

I love how you weave a story. Just to get to the evil but hilarious event with your kids, we learned about your likes and dislikes, KFC and gravy on screen doors, falling while walking on ice in heels, and much more. What a great glimpse into the person that you are!

7:20 PM  
Blogger L-Girl said...

Love the memories!! No tongue sticking here, but the other day I was mowing down on the carb free ice cream, and when I put the first spoonful in my mouth, the back of the spoon had become so cold from the ice cream that it stuck to my lip and dumbass me ripped the spoon off my lip BEFORE thinking how it would feel.

8:40 PM  
Blogger moosh in indy. said...

You make me miss swearing at disgusting amounts of snow and flinging my body at high speeds down hills and mountains.

9:51 PM  
Blogger creative-type dad said...

Ha! Too funny.

You know, being from California I always thought having your tongue stuck on a pole was a myth (like the easter bunny or david hasselhoff)

I guess it really can happen.

12:45 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

ROTFLMAO! Thanks for the giggle on a nasty, snow and ice bound Saturday. Guess I have to admit that I was hoping to see some pix, but I understand you not wanting to flaunt the evidence while fresh...

1:28 PM  
Blogger jellyhead said...

You ARE an evil mother. Terrible, horrible and plain old evil! ;)

2:20 PM  
Anonymous susie J said...

Thanks for showing the kid in you -- it's as refreshing as the snow.

9:25 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

Of course, I'm the only one who takes slight offense at the reference to 'dead kids', of course.

Funny story though.

Jenn

6:26 PM  
Anonymous Jojo said...

Loved it. I know that I'm horrid for not checking in but I promise I have been lurking. I am an experienced pole licker, (get your mind out of the gutter) and having grown up in the great white west, I have probably been stuck to more metal things than your average dumb ass. My thing was to try to do it quick enough to actually beat the pole. Fuckin pole won every time. Send me the pics on my email but be sure to taunt the kids first and tell them your sending them to the coolest chick in the east!!

8:22 AM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home