Kids
Either you love 'em or you hate 'em. Or in the case of Fred West - both. Tell us your ankle-biter stories.
( , Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:10)
Either you love 'em or you hate 'em. Or in the case of Fred West - both. Tell us your ankle-biter stories.
( , Thu 17 Apr 2008, 15:10)
« Go Back
I was a tiny yet robust child.
Although my parents were hardly tyrants, I would often choose the option of not reporting injuries, rather than get an ear bashing for climbing/falling through/being bitten by things I'd been repeatedly warned not to go near.
There was, and still is, a set of concrete steps going down a hill at the foot of my street. As kids of around 9, we all dared each other to walk down the wooden bannister at the side, but I had been warned by my mum that I'd break my neck. More serious to my 9 year old mind, however, was the shame falling off in front of my mates would cause. Logically then, there was only one course of action.
A practice run. While alone.
What could possibly go wrong? It was genius.
So while my mum was visiting my gran one evening, off I pedalled on my bike down to the steps. On I hop, standing up on the bannister proudly. I would be the toast of my class. All is going well, almost halfway.... this is easy.....
*quick flash of upside down world*
I awoke at the foot of the steps wondering what had happened. Amazingly, I was pretty much unharmed apart from a massive duck-egg on my bonce and a few cuts on my arms and face (the seriousness of having been unconscious had been watered down by years of the A-Team). But how would I explain my injuries? I couldn't tell the truth, I'd get a bollocking. And I knew I'd have to make whatever lie I told convincing.
Again, only one real choice. Logic prevailed.
My mum emerged from my gran's house shortly afterwards to witness me riding my bike full-pelt into the fence and gracefully gliding over the handlebars into the hedge with a dramatic "ARGH!"
What a bollocking I got once I was confirmed alive. Still.... at least she never knew what really happened.
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:20, 2 replies)
Although my parents were hardly tyrants, I would often choose the option of not reporting injuries, rather than get an ear bashing for climbing/falling through/being bitten by things I'd been repeatedly warned not to go near.
There was, and still is, a set of concrete steps going down a hill at the foot of my street. As kids of around 9, we all dared each other to walk down the wooden bannister at the side, but I had been warned by my mum that I'd break my neck. More serious to my 9 year old mind, however, was the shame falling off in front of my mates would cause. Logically then, there was only one course of action.
A practice run. While alone.
What could possibly go wrong? It was genius.
So while my mum was visiting my gran one evening, off I pedalled on my bike down to the steps. On I hop, standing up on the bannister proudly. I would be the toast of my class. All is going well, almost halfway.... this is easy.....
*quick flash of upside down world*
I awoke at the foot of the steps wondering what had happened. Amazingly, I was pretty much unharmed apart from a massive duck-egg on my bonce and a few cuts on my arms and face (the seriousness of having been unconscious had been watered down by years of the A-Team). But how would I explain my injuries? I couldn't tell the truth, I'd get a bollocking. And I knew I'd have to make whatever lie I told convincing.
Again, only one real choice. Logic prevailed.
My mum emerged from my gran's house shortly afterwards to witness me riding my bike full-pelt into the fence and gracefully gliding over the handlebars into the hedge with a dramatic "ARGH!"
What a bollocking I got once I was confirmed alive. Still.... at least she never knew what really happened.
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:20, 2 replies)
Both of those things
are the sorts of thing I would've done! We must be related somewhere along the line.
*Tries to remember if I have a cousin called baw bag*
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:28, closed)
are the sorts of thing I would've done! We must be related somewhere along the line.
*Tries to remember if I have a cousin called baw bag*
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:28, closed)
It's quite possible!
I seem to be related to almost everyone!
I was constantly covered in bruises, scratches and muck from our adventure, it was great! Fell down a drain once and everything :P
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:56, closed)
I seem to be related to almost everyone!
I was constantly covered in bruises, scratches and muck from our adventure, it was great! Fell down a drain once and everything :P
( , Tue 22 Apr 2008, 17:56, closed)
« Go Back