Holy Smokes… Tuesday already?!?
Round ‘em up for True Story Tuesday!
It’s your chance to share anything amazing/hilarious/miraculous/outrageous and (mostly) true that has happened to you!
Of course this usually means copious amounts of humiliation for yours truly, but join in – we can all use some comment love! Just write your post (or use one you’ve already written), copy and paste the below text into it:
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(it’ll give you the handy dandy True Story Tuesday button above that Brian is always whining about)
Then come back and link your post up at the bottom for some fun sharing your tale!
This week my Dad makes his return appearance to our True Story Tuesday series. And I’m rather frightened…
KEEPER OF THE FAMILY LEGENDS
Remember that letter my dad wrote me at camp? The one that I naively believed every word and sat in my cabin and bawled my homesick fourteen-year-old head off over?
It’s worth reading – especially the part where he says he gave away my bed and got me a nice cot at a garage sale.
Even the envelope was included in his arsenal:
Yes. He said he gave away my school supplies to an orphan. Go ahead, the letter is even better. I’ll wait… :)
Dad has a photographic memory for every stupid thing I’ve ever done. And he is quick to access those memories for anyone who may not have witnessed them.
See, I should have known that this year was going to have some crazy Christmas gifts when I saw my sister unwrap this doozy:
Umm yeah. The mother of all jars filled with industrial-sized pickles.
And then I noticed that the flurry of unwrapping had stilled and all eyes were expectantly on me as my mother handed me a white paper bag.
I looked closer.
My dad was eyeing me.
Oh no he dinnt.
The entire bag was covered in scenes from True Story Tuesdays!
What followed was a 15 minute demonstration of unladylike laughter. See for yourself:
(The bag, not the unladylike laughter. I mean, I have limits to self-humiliation. Kinda)
Ahh yes, Dear Old Dad is so kind to refer to that lovely incident with the Kirby. One of the early True Story Tuesday tales that was prompted by him still calling me "Miss Vacuum Head” 20 years later. I think I prefer the “Ratio” nickname, thankyouverymuch.
And for the record Dad… it wasn’t ME who said “My legs are my life”… Pickle Girl up there mocked me for whining about being tickled. It was Nutcracker season and I didn’t want to bang up my legs beating someone up. AHEM.
Aaaaand 90 degrees:
Oh my snort… it’s another TST! Yes, the one where a sicko was following three scared little girls on a campground trail, and this chick got a shot of ninja bravado and yelled the scariest thing she could think of.
Yes, “I KNOW KARATE”!
The picture totally made me lose it… can’t you just hear it?
Aaand another 90 degrees:
Oh Lordy. I didn’t know we were gonna go THERE.
Remember the ballet legs referred to on the first picture? Being in a ballet company with a bunch of skiiiiiiny girls can give anybody a complex.
Yes. I complained that my legs were stocky.
And I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my Dad laugh so hard.
(For the record, I loved those ballet instructors. Ever teach a deaf kid how to dance?)
Let’s go back for a second and take another gander at that drawing of the stocky legs…
I’m pretty sure that one drawing garnered the most laughter all of Christmas Day. Rachel and her Stocky Legs.
I can see why that bad guy at the campground quit following us… a mutant karate champ, EEK!
Oh, and that WILD HORSE?
I don’t remember this one at all. But as we were driving home from Santa Cruz one day, I apparently got really excited about a horse in a field.
And with all my little kid energy, yelled to the entire carful of relatives,
“Look at that WILD horse!”
They dutifully looked, and my aunt to this day can hardly breathe as she recounts the story.
Well, at least it was a HORSE.
Because it led right up to the last side of the bag:
This one elicited howls of laughter and required a retelling of the famed “Dad, I hit something” story.
And he just had to throw that last little dig in there about the “Even Troll”.
As a toddler, the Three Billy Goats Gruff was my favorite book. And before I learned to read, I could recite it from beginning to end. Except I couldn’t quite say evil troll, so he became the EVEN troll. Doesn’t that sound much better?
For the record, I never said that I possibly hit anything bigger than a moose.
And I was not responsible for the demise of the very large huge ginormous dog that was in the road. No matter what my dad’s little reenactment drawing may show.
And if I truly had hit an elk, rhino, bull elephant, or T-Rex; you can be sure Mr. Daddy would have mounted it on his trophy wall.
There ya go – best Christmas present ever. Thanks for the laughter Dad. Maybe next year we can laugh about *Ahem* someone else’s legends?
So what are your family legends? Link up below for some comment love - thanks for playing along!