We are Our Stories: Pranks, Jokes, and Other Funny Memories

I needed (wanted) some bookshelves in my room as a teen and Dad in his infinite wisdom, decided it would be a great weekend project for us to do ourselves. We bought the unfinished wood, the shellack, we used my existing natural wood dresser as the workspace. It was a comedy of errors from start to finish. The shellack he put into styrofoam cups, not realizing when we let it sit - it would eat through the styrofoam.  Hammering a nail, he slammed his thumb which I thought was hilarious. Its only funny until someone gets hurt and then its hysterical, right? The shelves were finished and hung up on the wall with brackets if I remember correctly.. Oh lord - it looked so awful we called it Carpenter's Nightmare, and we never attempted anything similar again. Oh, and from all the hammering and nails we used, the top of my dresser had multiple permanent nail holes in it. Oops!! Bob Vila was popular at the time on "This Old House" on PBS - probably where Dad got the idea from!! Bob Vila probably would have had a heart attack if he saw it LOL

In later years, we said if Dad saw it on the Food Network, it was a Dad approved place to eat.  But before the Food Network, there was PBS and he watched Bob Vila and a few cooking shows - I remember "Yan Can Cook" was a Chinese food cook and that's how we ended up with the wok from what he watched on there.

Apparently if it was on PBS, some version of made it into our house.

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Growing up, Dad and I were famous (or maybe infamous or both) for pranking each other. There were multiple water fights, ice fights, ice water poured over showers as one of us was showering..I can still hear him lovingly scream..you son of a bitch as I waited for him to retaliate. He would say something about payback and that there would definitely be a payback, but when I least expected it! And he did...

One time, I hid behind the kitchen wall, heard him approach and downed a bucket of ice cold water, stopping him dead in his tracks. He got me too, although I hated to admit it. I remember him coming up behind me and screaming trying to catch me off guard. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, sometimes I would hold it together even though it really rattled me and tried to prevent him from seeing that it did! Of course, he did the same with me.

One time in the house on Robertson Road one Sunday morning, we chased each other and I grabbed what I could to defend myself - a container of Johnson's Baby Powder. From the landing on the stairs between the 1st and 2nd floor, I squirted the baby powder towards him. Unfortunate for me, Mom was standing between us and she and her hair got caught in the crossfire. The one thing you still never do - is mess with Mom's hair. How we both managed to survive that episode, I'll never know.

This extended to driving...when one of us would scream to catch the other off guard, especially as we were backing out of a parking spot. I can still hear him bellowing "WATCH IT JEFF!!!" followed by me slamming the brakes. Years later, I tried it with a friend as she drove and she exclaimed "Shit! What did I hit?!" - I had a really good laugh over that with Dad. I was definitely his son in that regard.  If I had a water bottle in the backseat, I would fake sneeze and then spray water from the bottle on his neck which was pretty good at startling him and catching him off guard. More on driving in a different blog post, though.

For the most part, I caught him offguard, but the times he managed to get me..He would scream and holler in excitement and point his finger at me gloating over it. I hated to admit it, but he was right!

 There were a few times I really thought he was going to kill me.

1..We had a wooden screen door on one of the apartments we lived in, and it locked with a latch, but from the outside, you could still jiggle it a bit. The way the apartment was setup, the back of his desk faced the front door (screen door). I came home from school one day, and was typical for him - he was deep in thought at the computer, I saw my chance, and I yanked and slammed the screen door, causing it to make a really loud bang. He jumped a mile out of the chair and then he screamed. Its almost 37 years ago and I can still laugh and see this play out like a video in my head. I really scared him that time.

2..In that same apartment, one time, it was like a scene playing out of a movie. He was sitting at his desk, which was immediately behind our kitchen table. He stood up, like he was going to walk away. I pulled the chair away so I could sit in it...only for him to count on the chair still being behind him..He went flat down on his back with his head ending up underneath the kitchen table.. It was the best unintentional trust fall I have ever seen. He thought it was funny as I did, but Mom thought I did it on purpose. 

3..He had a metal Tweety tea kettle and with his back to me, I again saw my chance and I snuck up behind him and with a wooden spoon and the Tweety Kettle, I banged the two of them together. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! He jumped really high, he screamed, and his legs started moving like he was trying to run although he never moved from where he was sitting... I apologized to him but initially he had told me to "go away, go far away" because he was so scared he couldnt even look at me" he was so angry.

Luckily, he didn't. and I lived and survived to tell these stories.

Eventually, he would laugh over them too.

We are Our Stories: Times I Managed Not to Get Killed

My Aunt had taken me shopping to some mall, and I decided to hide under one of those circular clothing racks (I was probably around 3-5 years old at the time). I have only vague recollection of this - but it sounds like me. Anyhow, so I hide under this rack when my Aunt isn't looking, and I hear her calling for me and I stayed hidden for a few minutes. I finally came out from the rack, totally proud of myself "HaHa, Aunt Bernie, I was hiding!" I'm surprised she didn't kill me LOL

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One of Dad's favorite stories (and I vaguely remember this one) - If I was going to get spanked, the words I heard were "Assume the Position!". Well, I decided I was going to outsmart him this one time. I did assume the position (which meant face down across his lap) but I placed some hardcover books down my backside to cushion the blow. I thought I was so smart he wouldnt know, and I planned to scream bloody murder to make him think he made his point. Well, he started laughing so hard he couldn't spank me. So although it didn't happen the way I thought it would - I guess I was still successful!

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In nursery school one day, I was sent to sit in the corner and they called my parents to come get me. My act of defiance? Another kid dared me to say some curse words, and I took the dare. I dont remember which parent had to leave work to pick me up, but I bawled "he made me say them!"

Speaking of cursing, I was around my parents enough and picked up on words they said. Dad, for his part, did not curse much and tried to watch what he said around me. Instead of "Oh Shit" he would routinely use "Oh Sugar".

But I could tell how to use the words they said even though they forbid me to use them. One day, angry at something they told me I couldn't do, I got out of the car when we returned home, stamped my foot and exclaimed "Damn Damn Double Damn," for which I got sent to my room. I always wondered why they didn't acknowledge the proper use of a word I had never used before.

After watching a Flintstones episode one day, Fred said to Wilma "Will you open the cotton picking door?"

A few days later, Mom took me and a friend to a movie and when we got home, she was taking too long for my liking, so I repeated what I heard: "Will you open the cotton picking door already?" I got punished over that one, but I feel it was more over my tone than what I actually said.

TONE would end up being a big thing through my teenage years.

"Don't you use that tone with me"

"Don't you put an edge on your words with me"

(This is where I would emphasize the last syllable as in alRITE! (alright)..or FINE!!!)

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Living in NJ at the time, and I was probably 10/11 or so - Dad was working in New York and Mom and I decided to see a play and spend the day in Manhattan. Had a great time and then we took a taxi and were meeting up with Dad at the airport to fly somewhere. Getting into the taxi, Mom was taking forever..so I thought I would help her with a little nudge (push) so that I could get in to the cab too.. Oooh boy, bad decision, Bad Decision. I learned never to push Mom getting into a cab again.

Speaking of travelling, and with similar circumstances years later.. Mom and I flew to New Mexico (Albuquerque) to look at colleges. This was where I decided to go to school at NMSU in Las Cruces, but we looked at both NMSU (in Las Cruces) and UNM (in Albuquerque). It seems our connecting flight was delayed in Houston and we finally boarded very late at night...Tired, and just wanting to get there as we probably had to be up early for my campus visit - We finally board and get on the plane. I was so excited, I was probably about 10 feet ahead of Mom. I just wanted to get there! I got to our row, and looked she was looking in the overhead bins for room for her bags..Frustrated, I exclaimed loudly "RIGHT OVER, HERE MOTHER!" -- I never called her Mother - EVER... and she even said to someone "Uh oh! I'm in trouble now...he called me Mother!"  

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Mom and I knew (and still do) know how to push each other's buttons very well.

Dad once said, Mom and I arguing was like having an open wound, and then one of us is not only swirling the knife around the wound, but we made sure to pour sugar on it too (or maybe it was salt) just to make sure it hurt..

It was during one of those arguments, Mom picked up from somewhere..some movie or something...to tell me that she was taking me out to the shed and one of us wasn't gonna make it back!!

One of the best ways for me to push her buttons when we were arguing..was I realized if I tried to get the upper hand in the argument, she didn't know how to react. I somehow learned this at a very early age. I don't remember what I did, but I got home and she had said something to the effect of "don't do this again OR ELSE".  To which my reply was "or else what?" -- In my defense, I just wanted to know what the consequences were so I could weigh my options and decide was it worth it in my opinion. The problem was, she didn't have an "or else" and it infuriated her that I asked. I remember she sent me to my room, and after my Dad came home from work (I was probably around 8 or 9), I heard the two of them talking in the living room and I heard him say, "Honey, just give him an or else!" Writing this, I started laughing - even back then my Dad and I just spoke the same language and had the same logic! (To set the record straight, I never did get an "or else what")

When I got older, I continued to use logic when I argued.

In a Penneys store one time shopping with Dad for new clothes for him - Mom and I were having one of our moments when she got mad at something I said, and whatever she said back to me - I didn't like either. I told her when she was ready to address me and talk like a human instead of a child, she could come to talk. You can imagine how well that went over. About as well as the time I told her I was probably 15 or so and "tired of her stuff!" Woo Boy.. am I ever surprised I survived to adulthood.

Even as an adult, we knew how to push each other's buttons. Part of it is we are both alike and emotional. This one time in the car, I kept pushing because I felt relatively safe with family in the car with me..She wouldn't kill me with both of there, right?  So, whatever I said I could tell I got to her..and then I had the nerve to ask her..Are you OK, Mom? You sound irritated.. Is everything alright? 

With Dad, I pushed buttons later in life, but as a young kid - Mom was really the disciplinarian and if Dad got involved, I was in big trouble!! I remember times he only had to say my name and I knew to stop before I really got it!

When I got older, I would taunt him and say 'What's your name" 

"Dad"

"What's your name on your birth certificate?"

"As far as you are concerned, its Dad"

I continued to torment him and realized if I called him, it tended to get under his skin. Every once in a while, I would hear him mutter "I am not going to do it, I am not going to do it..I am not going to let that little shit get to me" -- I told him by the time he said that, he to admit I already had - and we both laughed. 

It was because of the "Al" stuff that he swore if he could go back he would have given me a name that could be shortened to 2 letters and it was during this time he gave me yet another nickname - Jemooz - which was born out of my initials JMZ..Sometimes he would call me Jamoke.

Dad would often quip "Enough with the Al shit. My name is Dad"

This part of the Al story became famous when we saw the movie "A Good Day to Die Hard."  The plot concerned John McClane and his estranged son. Imagine our surprise to hear "Enough with the John shit, my name is Dad" from Bruce Willis. We both threw a look at each other and then dissolved into hysterical laughter. It must have taken us 20 minutes to stop laughing so hard. I think Hollywood owes us some royalties for that one.

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To her credit, Mom taught me how to do my own laundry sometime before I left for college. As a kid, we did not have a washer/dryer in our apartment and so we went out to the laundromat to do it. This was the start of where Dad and I said she was the Psychotic Laundress From Hell. She would ask me if I wanted to go with her, and then force me to go if I said no. LOL.

At the time, she was particular about how certain things were folded, so though she wanted my company and help folding stuff out of the dryer, she would sometimes refold if it didn't meet her expectations. The way I fold towels came out of this.

Years later, the Psychotic Laundress the title was solidified, before one family vacation. By now, we had a washer and dryer in the house which was in the basement, and she was doing some pre-vacation laundry. She gave me strict orders to take what was in the washer and put in in the dryer for so many minutes on such and such setting. Typical Me, I didn't listen and I re-washed what was in the washer for another cycle. Holy Hell - That was the time Dad and I figured out it only took .06 seconds for her to turn from Mom to Bitch.

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Dad helped me pack and move one time after I had been in Arizona for a while. He flew out using my flight benefits, and together we went to Uhaul, bought a bunch of boxes, and began packing up my apartment in Tempe when I initially moved to Chandler. We ran out of boxes and had to do a 2nd run to buy more. So we did. As he finished packing, the boxes were stacked in one corner of the apartment. I decided to mess with him as he was standing by the door after a few hours of hard labor for us both. You could see the difference in the two kinds of boxes because the color of the font was slightly different.

Me: Uh Oh.

Dad: What's Wrong?

Me: You can't have a Hunter Green next to a Forest Green?

Dad: Slams the door in my face 

It was absolutely hilarious when it occured and the perfect retort to what I said.

We are Our Stories: Jacking Off an Elephant

I haven't figured out how exactly this will work or how I will do this - but I have had this on my mind for a while. I wrote recently "We are our stories."

As time and my motivation to write permit, I am going to start capturing some of them. Not sure if they will stay on this blog or if I will create a separate blog for this purpose

They will be in no particular order, just stories I happen to remember and think of and add to my "list" - some quotes or short anecdotes, and some will be longer more involved stories.

Here is the first one.

"Jacking off an Elephant"

Mom was in the hospital for one of her knee replacement surgeries. 

Dad used the bathroom in her room, and then used the hand sanitizer from the dispenser.

It's even funnier in hindsight because hand sanitizer didn't mean as much then as it does right now.

At any rate, he used the sanitizer dispenser, which blew a load into his hands.

He came out of the bathroom, exclaimed "Look at this! It looks like I jacked off a ------- elephant!!" 

Of course, we all started laughing hysterically and somewhere - there is a picture of his hands. 

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That same hospital stay, after surgery, I remember in recovery the Dr said to Mom, we can’t move you to a regular room until you’re stable and not asking for pain medication. 

My retort: Waiting for her to be mentally stable? 

Like that’ll ever ———- happen LOL. 

We all laughed.

Those were some good times and good one liners.