Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts

Friday, July 6, 2012

A CONFESSION SESSION

I have a fairly amusing story to relate that happened many, many, years ago.  I have debated writing about it because of the confession I have to make at the end plus the fact that this story might get back to the principal antagonist.  It's a long one so feel free to just skip it.  For those of you who have time to read it, enjoy.

Like I said, this happened a long time ago (try about 27 years ago).  I received a call from someone I will call Kay (to protect her real identity) asking if my son Adam (3) had brought home her son's She-ra doll from church.  I was surprised she asked me this because Adam was still in the nursery at church and her son was old enough to  attend Primary (children's Sunday School) and I couldn't see how they would have even crossed paths.  I told her as much and she pointed out that someone had seen Adam with the doll.  I told her I would have a look around the house but that I had not seen him with it at all.  I did as I had said I would and even checked the toy box quite thoroughly.  It was not in our house.  She called back, I relayed that we did not have it.  A few days later she called again, again I told her that we did not have it in our possession. She was adamant that it must be at my house because Adam was the last one seen with it.  I was adamant that we did not have it, that I had never even seen the doll, and that it was highly unlikely that Adam would have gotten into the house without me spotting the stupid doll.  She called a third time and at this point I was starting to get really annoyed.  How many times did I have to tell her "WE DO NOT HAVE YOUR DOLL!!!!" ?  Seriously though, the most the doll cost was maybe five dollars.  I felt like going out and buying one just so she would stop harassing me but then she would probably figure that we really did have the doll after all and I was feeling guilty.
It became a bit of a joke with a couple of my friends and they would ask if I had put out an APB on She-ra.  It was no longer a joking matter though when the young woman living with us at the time went  to Kay's house to babysit her kids.  She came home from babysitting and told me that Kay had asked if she had seen the doll at my house.  I just about lost it.  Did Kay think I was lying about a ridiculous, five dollar doll?  We were barely scraping by at the time but I would not steal some little kid's toy just   so my child had something to play with.  It made me so mad that she would doubt my word.  I was steaming and was going to call her and giver her a piece of my mind but my husband talked some sense into me and just told me to let it go so I did the next best thing and called my best friend and gossiped vented to her.
A couple of weeks after this incident, I decided to give the toy box a good clean out in readiness for Christmas.  I tipped the entire contents out onto the floor and sorted through the toys, discarding broken/incomplete items.  I know you can guess what I found when I tipped everything out.  There was She-ra in all her glory lying in amongst a pile of McDonalds toys.  I was stumped as to how it got there because I honestly had not seen it come into the house nor had I seen it played with by either of the boys.  I knew that I would have to call Kay and eat humble pie.  I hated the thought of it and so I did what I always do when there is an unpleasant task at hand... I procrastinated.  I figured I would just hand her the doll on Sunday at church and sheepishly grin as I explained how I came across it.  I pretty much knew she wouldn't believe me but I had no choice.  I even joked with the girl that was living us that she should take the doll to Kay's the next time she was asked to babysit and secretly slip it down behind the sofa.
On Sunday morning I went to get She-ra off the shelf where I had safely put her, out of reach of little fingers when I noticed she was gone.  I asked Ian if he had given it to the boys and his answer was no.  I then asked the girl living with us if she had seen it and that is when she told me that she had taken it to Kay's when she babysat there earlier in the week and dropped it behind the sofa just like I had suggested.

"I was only joking!" I explained.

"I know" she replied "but I thought it was a great idea so I hid it like you said."

Great...now how was I going to explain that one to Kay.  She already thought I was a liar, she would never believe that it was a joke to hide the doll at her house.  Keeping true to my habit, I procrastinated telling Kay that she would find the little action figure behind her sofa.  A couple of weeks later the phone rang.

"Hi Fionna" (It was Kay)

"Hi Kay."

"I just wanted to call and apologize to you."

"Oh?"

"I found that She-ra doll.  It's been here all the time.  I found it behind the sofa and I feel badly about it because I was sure that Adam had it... someone had seen him with it....and ...er...anyway I am really, really sorry."

My reply?

"That's okay Kay... apology accepted."
This was said in a most magnanimous tone.

I know, I know, I'm a horrible person but I just couldn't bring myself to confess.

I am wondering now, how long it will take for someone to figure out who Kay is and rat on me.


Friday, March 25, 2011

FURTHER CONFESSIONS

Here's a big confession although I don't think it will come as a surprise  to those who know me well...
I have the maturity of a preteen boy.   Remember when you were in school and it was time for "sex education" and the teacher would name a body part only to be met with some snickers form the boys? The "mature" girls would roll their eyes and sigh and one would voice her opinion about the boys needing to grow up.  Yeah, that wasn't me.  I wasn't even one of the girls mortified that the discussion was being held with boys present.  I was pretty much giggling with the boys.  The sad thing is, I never really outgrew it.   I think it hilarious when my husband says  things like "I like to keep it tucked  between my legs while I'm driving so it doesn't flop around." (he was referring to a bag of snacks he had)  I can't help it, I just start laughing.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you not just hear what you said?" I shot back.  He rolled his eyes which made me laugh all the harder.

I once had to leave a Sunday School class because the teacher used the word erected one too many times.  I was tired (not a good thing) and my daughter was there (we looked at each other and smiled, again, not a good thing).

So basically I am a twelve year old boy... which would explain why Matt Fuller wants to be my boyfriend.







Wednesday, March 23, 2011

CONFESSIONS




There are some things I don't like about myself... hard to believe, right?...but it's true.



Confession 1:


I am a closet hypochondriac.  If I've read about it, I've had it. You name it and I've had at least two or three of the major symptoms.  I self diagnose all the time and I am almost positive that I am dying from some terminal disease or another.  I have had to ban myself from watching Mystery Diagnosis on the Health Channel.  The only reason I am not dead right now is because after a day or two of developing cancer, MS, and a host of other diseases, my miracle body spontaneously heals itself.  I am sure if the medical science profession knew of my body's unique healing abilities I'd be in some research hospital right now with a horde of needle wielding nurses hovering over me,so lets keep it on the down low.

Confession 2:


Bad spelling bothers me. I equate spelling with intelligence even though I know that it is not a good indicator.   I won't even reply to a kijiji ad if there are blatant spelling mistakes in it.  I don't care how much I want the advertised item, that's why I was mortified when this  happened.  It drove me crazy to think that someone believed I was an atrocious speller.  I am a spelling snob.

Confession 3:


I think sometimes that my husband is trying to kill me.  He has no idea that I am on to him that is why I have escaped serious harm.  Red flags go up when he offers to make dinner.  He doesn't/can't cook so I know he's out to poison me.  I always make him take the first bite and I switch plates when he's not looking.   I always check the brakes first thing when I get into the car too, to make sure they're working. Oh I've seen him out on the driveway supposedly shining the tires (more like slashing the brake lines or at least I know that's what he'd be doing if he knew what a brake line looked like).  Did I mention that I suffer from an overactive imagination?... maybe that's where the hypochondria comes from...note to self...stop watching Tru TV.  I can't believe I would think such things about my wonderful husband.... but if anything suspect happens to me, show this to the police