While most other preschoolers were picking their noses and taste-testing their finds, I inspected–and then promptly ate–an inch-long splinter of wood. There was also the time, somewhere around age four, I think, that I decided I wanted to find out what the red-tipped end of a match tasted like. Don’t ask.
When most five year olds were sticking gum in their sister’s hair, I was sticking earring backs up my nose. Actually, it was just that once and luckily my mom was able to retrieve it with a pair of tweezers–an uncomfortable if not humbling experience. Lesson learned.
Strangely enough, I never tried the “normal” kid things that can make even the most saintly of parents want to relinquish their parenting license. I never ate the dog food or took a pair of scissors to my own hair or crayons to the walls. Despite my other, more obvious shortcomings, I really was a fairly intelligent, compliant child. At the time of each of these episodes though, I distinctly remember knowing, without a doubt, that I was about to do something I shouldn’t. I knew better, could even determine the expected outcome even before I committed heinous the act.
Still, in that instant, I couldn’t seem to help myself. Maybe it was simple childhood curiosity. Or the quest to answer the great “what if…”. Like, “What if I became the first 10 year old to bring the popularity of Riverdance to America–in bare feet, with the jagged, rusty bed of my dad’s pick up truck as my stage?” I still bear the scar.
Pondering on all the possibilities of what I was thinking at the time, and with the benefit of hindsight, perhaps I simply wanted to do something unexpected, out-of-character. Okay, that time I did the Riverdance thing, I seriously did not see the outcome before bustin’ a move.
Thankfully, neither of my kids ever tried to eat the dog food, let alone particles of sharp, pointy wood. (Boogers are another matter, however.) So far we’ve managed to avoid any trips to the ER due to foreign objects lodging in places they don’t belong. And, as far as I know, they’ve never ingested anything flammable (although some of my cooking over the years has probably been questionable). Which brings me to the question: who exactly are the normal ones here?
What about you? What’s the strangest thing you remember doing as a kid? Feel free to embarrass yourself in the comment area below.