Sterile Mouse

In kindergarten, my dad always encouraged me to do things out of the ordinary. One time he told me to say “Yes sir!” whenever my female teacher requested anything of me. That got me sent to the principal’s office after my second time doing it. This time though, I may have destroyed a couple lives that were to come. We were at Chuck E. Cheeses for a birthday party, and Chuck E. had just come out for the celebration. He marched around in his suit, and had the most obnoxious music I’ve ever heard playing in the background. All the children swarmed around him, except for me. I just stood back and observed. After about 15 minutes of celebration, my dad yelled “Now everyone attack Chuck E.!!” I was all in for that, so I charged him and kicked him right where the sun doesn’t shine. The kids gasped. Chuck E. maintained that smile that had been sewn on as he doubled over. I puffed my chest out in triumph, as if I had just taken down Castro. My dad was incredibly apologetic, and tipped the mascot heavily. Now that I think about it, I totally could’ve pulled shit like this all I wanted when I was a kid. It makes me want to be that young again, I dropped a mascot like a sack of potatoes, yet I didn’t get kicked out or even punished at all. If I could relive my childhood, I’d take everything literally. I’ll tell my kids to do ridiculous stuff, they’ll only get in trouble if it’s me giving them consequences, and they can live every moment to make memories.

Bed-Breaker

A close friend of mine would often invite me to his house for lunch during first semester. We always had more fun than we should have, and would do things that most 8 year olds would be seen doing. We would dress up in some crazy masks, throw nerf darts at each other, play sting pong, water pong, and would play the outdated PlayStation 2. One day, I was throwing the football to him as he’d dive onto the bed (I know, juvenile), and the 4 of us that were at his house would all go nuts as if he had just won the Superbowl. He made the horrible mistake of deciding to throw it to me. I ran towards his bed, and everything flowed into slow-motion as I dove through the air to catch the spiral of a football god. I hit the bed, and immediately we heard a resounding “Crack!” The bed went completely lopsided, but instead of taking this matter seriously the all of us just doubled over laughing. The bed is still lopsided as my Afro when driving on I-25 with the window open, it just doesn’t look right.

Operation: Bronco

Not a story, but I'll definitely pass this idea on. I’ve always loved explosions. And with that comes a love for chemistry. My mentor and savior taught me his ways, and told me some delinquent stories of when he was a kid and would blow up mailboxes. Now, I don’t ever do anything that could actually blow up private property, but if I have a problem (such as the fire ants trying to kill me in my backyard), I blow them up. All you need is Works toilet bowl cleaner, tin foil, and a bottle of some sort (the tighter the lid the better). Then the ingredients must be mixed into the bottle, and then shaken. You plant the combustible where you want it, and then you get to a safe place. Boom.

Operation: Waterslide

I love pranking my friends (believe it or not), and one time I could have permanently scarred a friend if I hadn’t told him what was going on. He goes by the name of Nathan Welch, and he’s pretty much an all-around boss. I don’t let that stop me from being a jerk though, so one time Grant and I decided to pull the prank of all pranks: Operation Mudslide. What is Operation Mudslide you may ask? We went to the local King Soopers, bought some laxatives, a two liter of Mountain Dew, and some brownies. We drank half the Dew, gave poured the laxatives in, and went back to school. We gave it to him completely incognito, and he was completely stoked about getting a free liter of Mountain Dew. He had no idea about the shitstorm that was coming (punned). I texted him to tell him to stay hydrated, and he had no idea why. After a while I told him what was going on, so naturally he was pretty mad, but thankful that I told him. Needless to say he had a nice sleepover on the toilet.

The Final Sock War

This story is stolen from my dad, but it’s one of my absolute favorites that I’ll definitely pass on to the next generation. When he was a kid, he had been the prankster of the family. Being the oldest, he’d often recruit his younger siblings to do a lot of the dirty work for him. His father (my grandpa) would start what they called “sock wars” with the kids, which is when they would bunch socks up into little balls, put a ton of them in one bag, and then throw them at each other. One particular evening my dad was able to put an end to the sock war with his younger brother, Steve. Although it was not intentional, the two of them managed to scar themselves for lives, end their favorite game permanently, and make their parents rage.

                Steve and my father had just gotten finished bunching up several socks after 20 minutes of laborious work, and were ready for the sneak attack of the century. The dynamic duo started crawling up the stairs as quietly as possible at 11 at night, but did not see the potential outcome of this sneak attack. They finished climbing the stairs, and swung the door wide open, throwing socks at my grandpa. They didn’t realize what they had done until after they had done the damage. They had “ruined a good time” for my grandparents, if you catch my drift. They ended up getting grounded, but I think just seeing their parents in that state would be enough punishment. Needless to say, they never tried that again.

Rejection

In ninth grade, I was possibly the most socially awkward kid in the school. My lunches involved me standing next to 3 of my friends, watching them eat because I never brought food or money. I didn’t socialize, just watched.  It may come with little surprise that I had some experience with rejection, and maybe this is because I only liked girls who were way out of my league. I wanted to ask a certain cheerleader to homecoming, and not just a normal cheerleader. She was by far the most attractive cheerleader in the school (and she will stay unnamed). I figured that if I asked her in front of a ton of people, she’d be sure to say yes. I must have been out of my mind. I wrote it on the whiteboard where warm-ups normally were. She walked into the room, turned to look at the warm-ups, and frantically (yet nonchalantly) erased it in one swipe. She was red. I was red. I couldn’t show my face anymore, I just got absolutely shut down in front of an entire class with a “surefire” plan. I look back at it and still feel embarrassed, but not because she rejected me. It’s just funny to me that I had the audacity to ask someone that I barely knew to homecoming, and expected a yes.

The Negro Club

When I was in fifth grade, I was a hardcore gangster.  Me and some of my ordinary friends were influenced by a movie called “Scary Movie 3” after it had just come out, and we were influenced by one line in particular where a white guy says “you just hate me ‘cause I’m black”. When kids are exposed to something they’re not used to such as racism, they often have to repeat it over and over again if they find it funny. And after that they take it farther than it ever should’ve gone, which is what my friends and I did. We took it past the level of inappropriate. We called it the “Negro Club”, which is bound to get us into trouble at some point. But we were too young and naïve to know. We kept the club going for a while, and initiated people into it by telling them to do things such as “go tell that girl you like her” and other ideas that would traumatize a 5^th grader. It got intense. After some time in the gang though, I rose up ranks. I was one of the leaders, and my gang name was “Hawk”. There was one kid who wanted to get into the club, but we wouldn’t let him because not many people liked him. We shouldn’t have messed with him because he was a tattle-tale, and screwed the entire operation over. He told the principle, so the leaders got suspended after a long talk and eventually suspension. You may know one of the other gangsters; he goes by the name of Snake. But his real name is Ben Ervin, the other kid at this school with a raging Jew Fro (when he grows it out). Fortunately, this wasn’t put on our criminal records, but it just as well could have been. Peace out homies.