OK, I'm never promising a post again.... I said tomorrow, but it's all relative. Right? OK.... so what did I steal? I know you've been praying for my soul after my two sins I revealed last week....
1.) Stealing grocery store bag closures. ( Which are free.)
2.) Disobeying my mother. ( Which is never a good idea, she'll embarrass you. See previous post.)
I said I would never steal again, but I lied..... there's the third sin I'm admitting. I stole something just as embarrassing as the bag closures, if not more. "How could it be more embarrassing than the bag closures?" you ask.
Need I say more? It gets worse I stole it from the thrift store. Yes, it was marked 40 cents and a yellow tag that day... so it was 50% off. I can't recall my justification here.
Was the line too long to wait in to purchase my 20 cent item?
Could I not find 20 cents?
Was I embarrassed?
Was I mad they were SELLING toys you could get for FREE at McDonalds?
Or was I just feeling mischievous?
I know I had intentions of using it... I had 7 others clipped to my purse. I certainly needed an 8th. Each one had a different annoying thing it did, squeak, shake, close it's eyes, open it's mouth. If I had to guess what special talent this one possessed. I would guess it was the one where you pulled the tail and it shimmied across the table.
Anywho! I pulled off the tag clipped it on with my 7 others and walked out the door. I had my treasure! But at what cost?
That thrift store went out of business 5 years later and who could say it wasn't because of my 20 cent steal? They reopened last year, I think I owe them a visit, and an apology, and 20 cents, my mother would be proud.
I have stolen 2 things in this life, not including the gas incident. Honestly, I should be ashamed. No, not because of the normal reason involving morality, but because I stole two of the dumbest items ever on the planet.
Let's do the time warp... punches in 1990 and a few other buttons because I am sure there are more buttons to make this time machine work.... ummmm... ah.... click, type, click....Ah Ha! There we go.
We have arrived in 1990 at a Thriftway Grocery Store in the Cincinnati area. I spot a little girl and her mother walking into the produce section. Hey, That's me!!! Awwww I look so cute and innocent, but believe me people, this is where it gets ugly! I am spying the plastic bag clips and my mother is picking up some regular fruits and veggies. Wait... you might need a visual here.
Yes, this is all my little five year old heart desires. So I ask my mom if I can take a few with me. And she gave me at least three reasons why I couldn't. I don't understand. How is Barbie going to get backstage at the New Kids on The Block Concert without her pass. What? You don't see it?
See it now? Barbie would just slip that over her wrist and she could make it into the concert. I had to make the ultimate sacrifice for my dear friend Barbie! I would sneak just a few of these into my keds and walk out with them in my shoes. Great Plan! So, I pick a few out of the bowl and bend over like I am tying my non-existent shoestrings and slip them in the heel of the shoe. I walked around the Grocery Store with my great find in my shoe, we came to the checkout lane and I nearly broke a sweat. I was for sure the clerk would find my steal! I walked casually whistling, well probably not whistling, but I was smooth. I made it through the checkout line and out of the store. I was in the clear. When we got home I immediately took my find to Barbie and we went to the concert.
My mom came into the room mid-performance. Probably one of my personal favs "Hangin' Tough", and spotted the bag closures around Barbie's wrist. She yelled and took them back from me and swore we were taking them back to the store. I cried and she did make ME TAKE THEM BACK to the store manager. He probably thought my mom was crazy for bringing those back, because they are free and I could have taken the whole bowl and no one would have never known. But it's the principal, she wasn't going to let me get away with being a sneak and a thief.
And from then on, I never stole again.... well, almost....
To hear what other ridiculous thing I stole many years later check back tomorrow.
This is the first car I've ever driven........
When I was 10.
Ok, Why was I driving at 10 years old? A few reasons:
#1. I'm the middle child and I need attention.
#2. I was only going to move it back 10 feet.
#3. I was confident and it looked pretty easy.
#4. My mom was on the phone and I didn't want to wait.
So the story, my version at least, goes like this:
I wanted to play basketball and hone in on my mad skills, because I needed to practice so I could play in the NWBA. (Yes, I wanted to be a professional basketball player.) I asked my mom if she could move the car and she told me to wait because she was on the phone. I waited at least 15-1 minutes. Maybe it was closer to the 1 minute mark, she was taking a while on the phone.
I was good at getting attention when I wanted it. So I began to make remarks like.
"Mom, you're taking forever. I'm going to move it myself."
"Mom, where are your keys?"
"I found your keys! I'm gonna go move the car."
Then I walked outside and slammed the door behind me. I was sure she would be right behind me. I walked to the car and looked back at the door. She wasn't coming yet.
I got in the car and slammed the door and sat for a minute. Still no sign of Mom.
I put the keys in the engine and started it up. STILL NO MOM!
Well, I think I've seen this done about one thousand times. I can do it. So I put my foot on the brake... Wait.... this IS the brake right? Yeah this is definitely the brake. I slip the car into whatever, the R mode is, I let got of the brake and I start rolling forward. Wait a stinkin' minute... I wanted to move the car back... not forward. How do I stop this? What did I do wrong? As the car begins to scrape the side of the house I realize I am in the N mode not the R. So I slam the bar back to R and plan on moving it back to the original spot without Mom ever knowing. Well it was too late.....
Mom was behind the car at this point screaming at me to stop and get out of the car. I didn't know about rear view mirrors and stuff and am already backing up. My mom quickly jumps out of the way and continues trying to get my attention. I see her and put on the brakes she yells at me to get out of the car. I obey, as usual, I always follow the rules. See I'm a good kid. I got out and Mom returned the car to it's spot on the driveway. On the DRIVEWAY!?!? In front of the hoop?!?!
Wait, I don't get to play basketball?!? What? I have to go to my room? Now I'm never going to be a professional basketball player! Thanks Mom!
This is a memory from the school memories I asked for a while back. It was written by my lovely mother, who also is a lovely cusser.
As an 8 year old third grader I had what was possibly the worst teacher in the universe, Sister Carol Ann. She was just an unhappy person. Ted would say that she needed "the cure" but that is beside the point. I recall that Sister didn't much like me. I don't know, perhaps I was immature. One day in particular, I had to urinate "like a race horse" and I raised my hand to be excused. Now, Sister saw that my hand was raised and in fact looked at me many times but she refused to call on me. I swear that this went on for at least 30 minutes. She just would not call on me. I stared, I willed her to say my name, my arm was cramped and the staring produced a weird effect of rings around sister's entire body. Finally......I let loose. All over the floor. There was urine everywhere. Sister was mad! Like it was my fault! No, she did not like me. That is probably why another time when I was getting something out of my desk and not paying attention to her that she said, "Glandorf, you jackass!" I swear to you that this profanity did indeed come out of the precious sister's mouth and smacked me in my 8 year old psyche forever! I am sure that sister smacked me with a paddle too but these 2 memories have scarred me for life and I shall never forget them.
I will see if i can get a photo of sister and/or a 3rd grade photo of me.
Mom
Mom, you jackass, where's the picture!? You never sent it. I'm disappointed.
I just realized yesterday, after my post, that not everyone has even had one campaign experience. I wrote something about my earliest campaign experiences. I have been campaigning for the Winkler name since I was a wee tot.
It never seemed odd or foreign to me. You go to fundraisers, parades, festivals, go on photo shoots, and commercial shoots, wear your t-shirts, pass out campaign materials and smile. Nothing more natural to a girl like me.
Last night my Mom had a fundraiser, she is running for Green Township Trustee. As I looked around I felt so proud of her. There were people there who supported my mom for the work she has done over the past four years. For the decisions she has made, not all of them popular. For the kind of woman she is, strong and a good leader, but loving and kind. For her love of her community.
I sometimes say negative things to my Mom about her job and how people are too mean to her. I mean, her and I are people persons and nothing makes us more happy than to be loved by others the way we love them. As you can imagine not everyone is going to love all of your decisions. So it would often times be hard to hear some of the hateful things people will spew out of their mouths in politics. Even when people are rude and hurtful I watch her try to be calm and listen. I'm sure many times she would like to take both sides of an argument and work it all out so everyone would be happy, but this is not possible. I've seen her make hard decisions (even when people will be upset) because her decision is truly best for the township that she lives in and is proud of.
So there I go unintentionally campaigning for my wonderful, smart, and beautiful mother. I really know she cares and does what is best for her community. Mom, all of the times I've told you to quit because it's not worth the hurtful words and hateful looks, I just want to say I'm proud that you haven't given up and keep standing up for what you believe in. From the fundraiser last night it looks like I'm not the only one.
I mean look at the pride on this kid's face.
