Caribbean Nesties
Dear Community,
Our tech team has launched updates to The Nest today. As a result of these updates, members of the Nest Community will need to change their password in order to continue participating in the community. In addition, The Nest community member's avatars will be replaced with generic default avatars. If you wish to revert to your original avatar, you will need to re-upload it via The Nest.
If you have questions about this, please email help@theknot.com.
Thank you.
Note: This only affects The Nest's community members and will not affect members on The Bump or The Knot.
Our tech team has launched updates to The Nest today. As a result of these updates, members of the Nest Community will need to change their password in order to continue participating in the community. In addition, The Nest community member's avatars will be replaced with generic default avatars. If you wish to revert to your original avatar, you will need to re-upload it via The Nest.
If you have questions about this, please email help@theknot.com.
Thank you.
Note: This only affects The Nest's community members and will not affect members on The Bump or The Knot.
Re: Whine about your childhood
Yer all old!
It was January, so I turned 6 that year. So really we're a lot closer in age than you think!
The nerve!
House | Blog
Once, I stepped on a crack.
It broke my mother's back.
For less then ten cents a day, you can feed a hungry child.
I threw up in my plate at the dinner table when I was forced to eat eggplant.
I still do not eat eggplant.
Husbands should be like Kleenex: Soft, strong, and disposable.
I wish I had a better remembory so I could recall all the horrible atrocities the world committed against me growing up. But in reality, I had things pretty easy.
Although I never did get an Easy Bake Oven or a Snoopy Sno Cone Machine, so obviously I was pretty deprived.
"That chick wins at Penises, for sure." -- Fenton
My dad told me we were getting a shark as a pet and then he came home with one of these.
That's a minnow, Dad.
The nerve!
House | Blog
I used to wear a ring that had a pearl on it, and the pearl was held in with these claw things. In 7th grade there was a boy that bothered me, and when I finally had enough of him, I punched him. He ducked and I hit him in the forehead. The ring left a scar. We ended up being friends later on, and as of college, he still had a scar on his forehead from the claws on my ring. I alternate between feeling kind of bad about it and thinking it's pretty funny.
For less then ten cents a day, you can feed a hungry child.
Oh on my birthday one year, my mom decided to give all my gifts to my cousin who has cerebral palsy so she wouldn't feel left out. She got to open all of them up and keep them all. There was no equal treatment there. I think I was about 5. So on her birthday a month later, I started opening her gifts thinking we switched birthdays or something, and I got sent to sit in the corner for the rest of the party.
My family blows.
Oh and my brother and all his friends made me mac n cheese once, which I thought was really nice. Until after I ate it and found out they all took turns spitting in it.
I've always felt protective of my childhood stories because looking back I realize what an effed up life we really led. My parents would call themselves hippies... It was more like party animals that never really grew up. We never owned a home, we always rented. Never really a problem until both my parents lost their jobs in the early 90s. We moved in with my grandparents who were already housing my aunt, her husband, and their 3 kids. It was supposed to be a very temporary situation but we ended up staying there for 7 years. It was something I was always really embarrassed about, I never had friends over. How do you explain 11 people living in the same house??
Anyway, my grandmother totally had favorites and they were not me or my brother. We shared a room, it was a bedroom that my grandmother used as her 2nd formal dining room. In the 7 years we lived there, she refused to take out the huge dining room table or hutch from our "bedroom". And the closet was off limits to us. She used it as her 2nd closet. Each night she would come in and inspect her beloved table for scratches or dents. She would have at any given moment at least 6 or 7 vinyl tablecloths or sheets on it to protect it from us. Sometimes, in the middle of the night she would burst into the room and fling on the light and go shuffling through the closet to find some article of clothing she wanted...
I get that it was her house and these were her things... But dude, we were her grandkids. Regardless of my parents bad choices she took it out on us.
There are so many deeper levels here that I'm not even touching on - but the table thing still makes me scratch my head... It's not like we ever ONCE used it while we lived there. It made no sense to keep it up.
when I was around 11 I wanted Jordache jeans (shut up, they were cool then) like my step-sister. My evil-ex-step-mother told me I could get jordache jeans when I was skinny like Angela. biitch!
my brothers also put a walkie talkie under my bed and made creepy noises. this was made worse by the fact that the door to the walk-up attic was in my room and they told me it was really the door to hell.
my favorite stuffed animal was a lamb appropriately named lamby and my brothers and sisters would torture him, throw him out the window, stomp on him and hang him from a noose.
When we were little and I would do something wrong I would always cry and say "I'm Misty, Wendy did it!" Misty would then start crying and get all "she's lying, I'm Misty! Wendy did it!" (every.single.time) Eventually my mom would get so confused about who she saw do what and who she was talking to that neither of us would get in trouble.
For the most part, childhood memories are depressing in my case.
Hezz's story made me sad until I read THIS:
Tears!
I bet her FUPA's name is Shane, like the gunslinger/drifter of literature.--HappyTummy
I forgot about this. My brother told me that if you turned off the light within three seconds of flushing the toilet, a monster would come out and kill you. To this day, it's so ingrained in me that I feel a little spasm of fear in my chest when I flush in the dark.
He also told me there was a giant floating head that lived upstairs in our house. I wouldn't go up there unless I was forced for years.
The nerve!
House | Blog
Oh hezz, I want to give you a big hug.
After my parents split, we moved into her bff's house. Her daughter became my bff (eventually) and we were raised like sisters. We all lived together for probably 10 years. Then my mom's bff got this boyfriend and he eventually moved in. At that point we had an apartment that had a sort of studio apartment in the basement. My mom lived down there and mom's bff, my bff, and I all lived in the regular apartment.
When the boyfriend moved in, he eventually demanded that I move into the studio apartment with my mom (who was still unmedicated and certifiably crazy) and that I never be allowed up in the main apartment because it was "weird." So at 13 I was sharing a futon in a one-room apartment with my mom and feeling like I had just been kicked out by my family.
I know it was a weird situation but it had been working fine until this prick came along.
He's manipulative and emotionally abusive but they're still married.
Husbands should be like Kleenex: Soft, strong, and disposable.
When I was in 8th grade, we went to my grandparents for an impromptu weekend visit. We didn't know we were going, they were surprised when we got there. My mom acted like it was all planned. Anyway, when we got home Sunday night, she was promptly arrested.
Apparently the cops came to her work to pick her up, she asked them to come to the house later, we weren't there, and they pretty much watched the house until we came back.
And I had to wear fake Doc Martens in high school. That I bought myself.
My childhood was ok. It's my adulthood my parents managed to fuckup.
Although, I was an independant little ***. When I was 6 or so, I stepped on a broken jar early one morning and cut the hell out of my foot. I needed stitches but I was going to take care of it myself. So, I tried to get a bandaid. We had white carpeting. The house looked like a grizzly murder scene. Eventually, I realized I needed adult assistance (I was the only one awake) and woke up my older brother. He was 19. Rather than getting me help, he told me how I would get tetnus and lockjaw and would eventually starve to death. By the time he woke my mom up, I had gone into shock.
Book Review Blog
If I were a man (or fitty) I'd totally call my penis THE WIZARD - HappyTummy
Yikes! What was she arrested for? I'm nosy.
Husbands should be like Kleenex: Soft, strong, and disposable.
Fraud/bad checks, etc. It wasn't the last time. And due to her shenanigans, I was arrested once, too. Those charges were dropped, though.
Someone has to keep throwing out weakass stories to break up these hardcore ones.
When I was probably 3 or 4, my parents made my sister and I clean up our sandbox in the rain (we had a huge sandbox with a platform play structure, swings, bars, and a teeter totter that my dad built us) because we hadn't done it earlier when we were told to. My sister decided we should run away from home to teach them a lesson. I think we made it all of two houses away. A neighbor drove by and saw us attempting to keep dry under their mailbox and asked if we needed a ride back home.
"That chick wins at Penises, for sure." -- Fenton
When I was 13, I really wanted a Bat Mitzvah so I could have a sweet party like so many of the other kids in my 8th grade class. No one ever threw me one, even though I enjoyed singing in Hebrew and thought the Jews were a fine people.
My brother and I once "ran away" by hiding in the closet with all of our favorite toys so that my mom would think we had run away and freak out. She found us when he caved at the offer of a snack. I was so mad at him and baffled at how mom could have possibly known where we were.
Oh, HT. Don't feel bad about not having a Bat Mitzvah. That was a really stressful experience. I had to learn a huge Torah/Haftorah portion, and sing in front of over 100 people (something I would enjoy now, but not at 13). I also HATED my dress. I couldn't find anything I liked and ended up sobbing in Loehmann's as my mom screamed at me "THIS IS THE DRESS WE'RE GETTING. YOU'LL WEAR IT AND YOU'LL LIKE IT!!!!!" Between that and the really bad perm, I was a mess.
One day I'll scan some of my Bat Mitzvah pictures and share them with you all.
Ummm.... I think I've told this before, but once when I was about 10 my dad and I went to the grocery. He opened his trunk and there was a pack of soap crayons inside. I asked if they were for me and he said "no, they are for my other family." (my dad's a smartass). Anytime he came home late from work for the next few years I wondered if he was with his "other family."
When I finally told my parents that story in college, my dad was so embarrassed. It was pretty hilarious.
I still harbor anger over the time I was 8 and my parents made me go to Gold Circle to buy things for my dad's trip to East Germany. I told them I didn't feel well and they still made me go, so I promptly threw up in the entry of the store. Why didn't they listen to me???
When do we get to do a spin-off? I was more the *** to my sibling and cousins. I wince at the stuff I used to do or say to them.
This one time, not at band camp, I peed in a glass and I gave it to my brother and nearly convinced him it was freshly squeezed orange juice. He had lips to glass before the smell convinced him he shouldn't drink it.
"That chick wins at Penises, for sure." -- Fenton