Breaking curfew. Skipping school. Speeding. Sneaking internet porn. We do stuff as kids we know will get us into trouble, and half the fun is talking our way out of it. Parents are always one step ahead...
cloudlessnine8 asked: What was your "Oh sh*t my life is over my parents are gonna kill me" moment you had as a child/teen?
Submissions have been edited for clarity, context, and profanity.
This is curious and sounds fun.
I put my cheap gel pens in a microwave when I was 11 because they wouldn't work and my teacher told me that it's because the ink has 'frozen'. Let's say I had to work extra that summer so I could get a new microwave.
When I was home alone, I put a metal spoon in the microwave and the microwave kind of blew up with a spark and died. I told my parents it just stopped working but didn't know why. Was so worried. When I told them as an adult, they said they knew.
Your teacher doesn't sound too bright.
90's kids problems.
For a month I kept taking the internet cord from my parents room and running it to the living room. Plugging it in the TV box. I was washing the dishes when my dad started reading out the porn titles on the bill....
As a 2000s kid, stories like these always fascinate me.
Same. We were there, but not actually there.
You were already on thin ice.
Every single day my mom told me to be careful near the frozen pond next to our house.
One day enough snow melted in order for my friends and I to play soccer in the field next to the pond. As you can guess at one point the ball ended up dead center in the middle of the pond on the ice.
My child brain figured if I could throw a stick on the ice, it was safe to walk on. So after making sure the ice was stable by throwing not one but two sticks, I started my walk to get the ball. It was like a scene from a movie, I reached the center and the second I picked up the ball and attempted to turn around I fell straight through the ice and went under. I had to break the ice the entire way back to shore and had my clothes dried at a friend's house a few blocks away. By the time I got there I thought I was on my deathbed but I could never tell my mom I was dumb enough to go out there or she would have probably killed me.
I'm now 26 and have still never told my parents I did that lol.
Points for honesty.
This story takes place in the mid 90s.
I was 16. Skipping school out f*cking around in my car with friends. Took a turn too fast and put the car in a ditch. We got the car out of the ditch with the help of a passerby. Not a scratch on it by some miracle.
Get home and dad asks "So how was school?" in a way that told me he knew full well I wasn't at school. If there is one thing my father instilled in me it is this: no matter how bad you f*ck up, lying about it will only make it worse. Own up, take your punishment and don't do it again.
So I told him exactly what happened. He couldn't really take the car away. I'd purchased it (from him for full trade in value) out of money I'd saved from working at a pizza joint. But he found other ways to make my life a living hell for a few months after that.
Come to find out, the good Samaritan who helped us out of the ditch was a coworker of my dad who recognized the car and had called dad to let him know about my adventures.
Haha, I saw a family member at a red light once when I was skipping school. He asked me why I wasn't in school and I said, you never saw me and drove away. He never told my parents! Thanks Leo!
Nope nope nope.
When I was 12, we were visiting my mom's family for Christmas and staying at my aunt's house like we usually did. Behind her house was a creek that ran through most of the neighborhood. This particular year, it had been really cold and there was snow at least 6" deep in most places.
I was playing out in the snow and looked back at the creek and saw some really weird icicles that I wanted to get a closer look at. I crossed a fallen log to get to the opposite side of the creek, facing the back of my aunt's house, and walked along the bank looking at the ice. Basically the creek was flowing and not frozen, but there was a shelf that had frozen above it and the ice hanging from it had formed into teardrop shapes instead of the typical spikes I was used to seeing.
As I walked, I neglected to see a patch of ice on the bank in front of me and stepped on it with my full weight. I slipped and slid fully into the creek, which was way deeper than I had anticipated. I was wearing a winter coat, jeans, and insulated boots, all of which became incredibly heavy when they got wet.
I was up to my armpits, trying desperately to stay afloat in freezing cold water and heavy clothes. My only thought was, "My mom is going to be so pissed."
Obviously I survived that incident. I pulled myself out, stumbled up the bank to a building that I thought was a YMCA and turned out to actually be a fire station. They called my mom, she came to get me, no harm, no foul and I was not in any trouble...although my entire family still mocks me and asks if I'd like to go for a swim every Christmas.
It's always the preacher's kids...
I was 17. Drove my girlfriend home from school. We ended up in the shower together. Just as we turned off the water and she was stepping out, we hear her dad open the front door of the house. Of course my truck is in the driveway so he knows I'm there, but I'm nowhere else in the house obviously. My short life flashed before my eyes.
He came stomping down the hallway and banged on the bathroom door. My girlfriend, wrapped in a towel, answered the door and lied her ass off, "he's is down the street at [one of our friends house]. I told him I'd call when I was out of the shower." Meanwhile, I'm standing frozen and shriveled in the shower behind the curtain preparing to meet the here after.
Married that girl. Been together 26 years.
Edit: obligatory gold thanks! Lol. This blew up. I also replied to a few questions below.... Including how I got out of the predicament.
Also, my wife is a preacher's kid. Her dad was one of my two pastors growing up.. ...
Not the pillows!
When I was 6, I spilled grape juice on the tan carpet in the living room. I put a pillow over it, laid on the pillow, and vowed that I would stay there the rest of my life so my parents would never find out. I lasted about 45 minutes. My mom was more upset that I got grape juice on the pillow, rather than the carpet.
When I was 28 I spilled a gallon of house paint on my basement carpet. We put a rug over it. You had a solid plan.
Good guy cop.
Getting pulled over by 3 police cars for doing 70 in a 45. My dad happened to call as I was talking with the officers. They asked to speak with him. After a few min they handed the phone back and said "you better go home, that is going to be worse than the ticket we are giving you" that was a whole lot of yelling at home.
You only got a ticket for doing 70 in a 45?
They didn't actually get a speed reading on me, it was only estimated.
Kids used to play outside.
When I was about 8 my sister (10) and I used to play around the neighborhood with other kids, but we had to be home by 8pm or when the streetlights came on, whichever came first. We had a watch on and every evening my mum would make sure that we had one with us and it was working. One evening we were 20 minutes late, and it was the second time that week (if we were late twice in a week we weren't allowed to go out the rest of the week). My sister and I were talking by the back garden gate making up excuses why we were late and making sure we were both on the same page in case she questioned us. We opened the gate to go inside and my mum was standing on the other side of the gate, arms folded. That was a life flashed before my eyes moment.
A friend and I did this upon sneaking back in to the house. We thought we made it- slid in through the dark house without waking the dog, eased my normally cranky bedroom door opened. We both slipped in, latched it quietly and turned on the light, saying "f*ck yeah, we did it!".
My mom was sitting on my bed.
Granny wasn't playing games.
So we live in a two story colonial. My parents are away on vacation.
I'm in the yard and tossing a baseball up in the air and catching it, just a 9 year old entertaining myself. I think to myself, "hey let's loft it onto the first split level roof and then it'll roll off and I'll catch it!"
Second toss, CRASH, shatter sister's window.
Grandma was babysitting. Grandma reported. I was smoked.
Your grandma snitched on you?
She sang like a canary.
"Never go against the family" Time to call a hit on your grandma.
She's the Italian one. I'd have to go to her to place the hit.
It seems like everybody should observe a basic level of respect at a funeral.
But alas. Some people are challenged to find respect even in time of deepest grief. And unfortunately, someone has to hear them.
There's a coffin going into the ground and you still can't get your mouth in order? Come on.