Did I ever tell you about the time my parents tried to kill me? No? Really? How did this never come up? I guess most people try to hide those type of family secrets. Not me. I post 'em for all the world to see.
I was about 3 years old. I was little. I was cute. Pretty much everyone loved me. You know the type.
My parents had been pulling weeds all day. This totally proves premeditation, if you ask me. Who pulls weeds on a nice warm spring afternoon? I mean, really? And to make it worse, they put them all into one pile. One very large, pile of home grown weeds.
They pulled out the jug of gasoline and began dowsing the pile. I should have run the other direction. I should have called 911...only there was no such thing as 911. Well, there were 9's and 1's, of course. I am not that old. But if you dialed them together no-one would come to your rescue. Also, I was 3 years old.
Oh, they did all the things they should have done. You know, like lining all of us kids up against the house and saying very sternly, "Stay there. This is going to be very hot and very dangerous. So just stay there."
But, again, I was three. And wild horses couldn't have kept me from my mommy. And so the minute they lit the match and threw it on the soaked weeds was the same minute I decided I could not spend one more minute on the wall.
"Poof!" went the weeds. "Poof!!" went my leg.
First I was taken to the bathtub...an ice cold tub. Then rushed to the doctor and given some type of wrapping. I healed. There are no visible scars.
But to this day, the smell of burning weeds is one of the worst smells in the world. I hate it. It makes me sick.
Maybe because it reminds me of the day my parents tried to kill me...
4 comments:
That must have scared them to death!
My favorite part of your story was this description:
I was about 3 years old. I was little. I was cute. Pretty much everyone loved me. You know the type.
I laughed out loud when I read "you know the type."
=)
Snap! Amazing that you don't have any scars. I know your parents had to be frantic. Glad it ended well.
Crazy.
Can't say we burn weeds here... but there was that time my son was two. He was at his dad's (I was just dropping him off) and they were all out back. OF COURSE oldest jumped on the lawn mower that hadn't moved in ten years, and OF COURSE there was a HUGE next of bees in it.
Poor thing was stung five times. It's how we found out he's not allergic like his momma. :)
I have memories of pulling/burning weeds also. Must have been the thing to do in our town. My grandma had to call the fire dept. after burning down our whole hillside.
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