I am constantly reading everybody’s “confessions”. I think it’s the trend to confess your deepest, darkest secrets on your blog. So I thought, why not join in the fun.
Here goes…the tell all.
1. I NEVER finish the last sip of liquid in my cup, can, or bottle. NEVER! Maybe it’s fear of backwash. My husband thinks I need psychological help for this disorder.
2. I read my firstborn the dictionary when he was only days old. I continued reading to him out of dictionary for much of his infancy. Yes, some mothers start their young ones on Peter Rabbit, but I jumped right to The Dictionary. By the time my second-born arrived, I realized I may have been overzelous in my attempts at education, so I reverted to tried and true nursery rhymes. I think it’s no coincidence that my son is the intellectual and my daughter…well, let’s just say she’s content to be a child.
3. I once called poison control because I ingested lavendar scented liquid air freshner. Don’t ask me how! It’s bad enough I had to explain my story to poison control.
4. While working at the airport for a company that sold private jets, I called my boss (in another country at the time) in a panic because I thought I’d set of the security alarms. Turns out the phone in one of the offices was off the hook and beeping repeatedly. I didn’t even get fired and NO I’m not blond.
5. During a financially difficult period, I would take my children to the toy store, let them play with all the toys, and then bring them home. It was much cheaper than actually purchasing toys for our home.
Ok…I can go on and on. Enough embarrassment for one day. Perhaps I’ll continue another time. I have so much to confess.
I’m not letting you off the hook! Go ahead and leave a comment. Confess…it’s good for your soul. I want something ”juicy” too!
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After reading the snot story, I can understand your fear of backwash!
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Oh my, and oh my. I could go on and on. I’m like the girl in signs, who leaves glasses of water everywhere because I think there’s a fuzzy in it or it’s old or it’s stale…not just water, this applies to everything I drink. I don’t really leave them around, I throw them out, but a lot get throw out.
I’m embarrassed about how I got the 10 stitches in my finger last year. I tell me people I was cutting ice cream out of a carton. It never gets any easier to explain that one. The ice cream was too hard. I held the circular carton in my hand, instead of putting it on a counter. I KNEW it was a bad idea. I could feel it but still, I held it in my hand. I pressed down on the SUPER hard ice cream that all of a sudden was like butter. The knife when through the ice cream, through the carton and through my finger. 10 stitches later…..
I won’t drink water from the tap. Seems nasty to me.
I called Dennis at work freaking out because there was an alarm going off in the house, somewhere. I couldn’t find it. I was scared the security alarm was going off in some location of the house, but I couldn’t find it or turn it off. I was scared the cops would come. What would I tell them? I followed the sound with the cordless phone all over the house, into closets, just trying to find the source. Guess what the source was…an AD on my computer. I went to a layout site, which was laden with ads and one of them was beeping. Yeah, I felt WAY stupid.
Good grief, I’m sure I could come up with SO many more. I remember asking Dennis, “please don’t tell anyone about this…” just last week. Can’t remember what that one was for.
Very entertaining posts! I’m a kook, so I have a few that would take too long. One comes to mind. I was once a traffic flagger, took the class that taught us that ANYTIME there is a police car with it’s lights on, you need to stop all the traffic and let the police car go. There was huge long line of traffic for me to deal with on a particular day on a bridge, the cops traffic lights were on, so I held up the traffic and waited for the police car to go. He wouldn’t go! Finally, he called over a loudspeaker, “Let the traffic go, it’s a funeral!” I hated facing all those people driving by that I had held up. Karen
as our senior prank, a few friends and myself, um… borrowed the bobs big boy statue (google it under images) from the local restaurant, transported it in the back of a truck to the high school, and hoisted it onto a pyramid of picnic tables on top of the roof of a two story building – all at 3:00 in the morning. we would have loved to claim the fame but we heard that the administration was on the warpath to whoever pulled such a stunt. we kept our mouths shut =)
I don’t know if this counts as a confession, since there were about 200 witnesses, but I dislocated my knee dancing for a dollar at my son’s wedding reception. A guest, who was a paramedic, stabilized it with 2×4′s and towels. I really know how to kill a party. Cute post, btw. Debbie
I am Tricia’s Mom and yes, she did call in the false alarm to her boss (and to me at home) and ever since she was young she NEVER finished her drinks. She is wacky but I still love her!!
Mindy and I share the same story but I had on old fashion white cotton briefs!!
So far I think Mindy wins this confession session. Keep em coming!
Julia…I always clean with Clorox wipes and Swiffer Mops…quick and clean.
Sometimes, I clean my whole house with nothing but Clorox wipes and Swiffer Mops and dusters. Great blog!
I found you through Cher (The Texas Woman) and I am laughing out loud, hard at the toy store confession. This is great! Ok. my confession. I had to go to a back doctor and he decided to look at my alignment. I had to disrobe all but panties and then bend over with him at my rear end area. The bad part? I was wearing a thong. And I was quite heavier then than I am now! Bless his heart.
I forgot to tell you I enjoyed readying through your blog. Blogs are great for us writer-wanta-bes ’cause they force us to write every day or so and that keeps our skills up for the “BIG” project.
The Texas Woman – again
Thanks for visiting my blogsite and laughing at my butt! HeeHeeHee. It is funny, isn’t it? Explain THAT one to your readers. Maybe I should further explain it to my own readers!
The Texas Woman