Cheerios and Bed Fires

*Inspired by Mama Kat's writer's workshop prompt, "Write about a time you got in BIG trouble as a kid."

This one is kind of difficult for me, since I practically never got in trouble as a kid. No, really. Ask my mom and dad. I was the bee's knees.

The bee's knees who was co-conspirator to my thirteen-months-younger-than-me brother. Or maybe it was the other way around. I don't really remember.

Either way, we were perfect. I mean, just look at us. Little angels.


I also don't remember sneaking downstairs to make sure our beloved grandma was preoccupied with Days of Our Lives (she watched us in our pre-kindergarten years while Mom worked), and then trying to find as many ways we could to wreak havoc in such a short window of opportunity.

Okay, so maybe this is difficult for me because there are too many acts to choose from. Like...

Dumping a whole box of Cheerios down all the heater vents in the upstairs bedrooms.

Ripping open and dumping out all of our older sister's Equal packets under the kitchen table and making an Equal dune for our little men (our index and middle finger), who were starving in the desert.

Popping out the second story window screen so we could throw out as many toys as possible in that little time we had before Grandma would run outside and pick them up, yelling and raising her fist at us from below (and probably cursing, too)...while we laughed at her and continued to throw more toys down on top of her.

And last, but certainly NOT least: Setting my parents' bed on fire. We were just "camping," okay? Our intentions were innocent and precious when putting our favorite Siamese Cat lamp on the bed, topping it with a blanket, and then sitting beneath it while we pretended to be warmed from the glow of a lantern, somewhere deep in the forest.

Cute, right?

Well, for some reason I still don't get, neither Grandma OR Mom saw the cuteness when the bed caught fire and the lamp burnt a large hole straight through to the other side of the mattress.

And funny thing (aside from the fact that we still used that mattress until many years later--and when I say we I mean our sister), I honestly can't remember the specific punishments for any of these things. Rather, between the ages of three and five, all I can remember is feeling my parents' (and any caretaker my mom would give us) constant oppression.

Okay, so I admit. I got in trouble ALL the time as a child. But who didn't at that tender, young age?

It was AFTER that point when I became the perfect angel.

**Sheesh, after this I feel like I owe a HUGE apology to my parents...and mostly to my grandma, God rest her magnetic-lovable-stubborn soul. I'm so sorry for making you sob on almost a daily basis, and for probably being one of the main causes of your graying hair.

I'm sorry for throwing things at you when, really, I thought you were the greatest person around.

I'm sorry for lying when you asked if we were conniving. Really, we were "kniving."

And thinking back on this has helped me remember just what it feels like to be a child. It brings me back to the evil, skewed inner-workings of a child's mind, who cannot comprehend the consequences when doing something outright bad and mischievous. And making adults look like the fool in the process.

I get it now, kiddos, I get it.

When One Life Ends, Another Begins

It's taken me a while to blog about this, but I just wanted to make a small tribute to my beautiful, cute, lovable (and sometimes ornery) Grandma, Barbara Culling. She passed away on the morning of November 6, with my mom and dad by her bedside. She's been on the verge ever since October 2006 when she had her first stroke, and had been in a nursing home for the last 4 years. We'd all been praying for her to go peacefully and that her suffering would end, so her passing was bittersweet. We're all very grateful that she isn't bogged down by her physical body anymore and feel this has been a blessing after 4 long years, but we all miss her!

Her viewing and burial were on November 10 and I wished so badly I could be there and experience the sweet spirit that others in my family did. But my thoughts were there that whole day, and I'm just grateful she had the privilege to meet my first two children, Sam and Josh.

The way I will always remember her is the active Grandma who loved dogs, hated having pictures taken of herself, and used to walk everywhere. Some of my fondest memories of her were the few times I got to fly out to California and visit her alone as a kid, spending a week with her at a time and meeting all her other cute, ornery friends at her apartment complex. Walking her little terrier, Bingo, then walking to the Iron Skillet or the 99-cent store. I love my Grandma so much!

But there's been a little blessing in the Coltharp family--another addition! On the morning of Monday, November 15, my sister, Cindi, gave birth to her daughter, Abigail Catherine Lindsay! Both she and Abbey are doing great and now at home trying to adjust to the new life-style. I wish I could see her so bad, but from the pictures and videos, she looks just like a little, cute, female version of her big brother, Aaron! She's so cute and I'm so excited for my sister that she gets to be the mom of a newborn again!

Next it's my turn. Gulp.