once again for the bargain price of $6.66 i will present to you a Top 5 Childhood Misadventures: April Fool’s Edition
Presenting:
The Saga Of The Stolen Door
Ah, to be young and filled with mirth and rage.
I was 14 at the time. 14 was not a good year for me. New town, new house, new school to adjust to, and that’s not even counting the complications of being an Undiagnosed Autistic Teenager. Ah, puberty. You think you’re finally catching up, and suddenly there’s a whole parade of shiny new developmental delays to widen the gap between you and your peers. Ah, nostalgia.
Point is, it was a difficult year for me and my 2 siblings. So when April rolled around? I decided, quite magnanimously I thought, a sign of benevolence of character and all that, that we all deserved a good laugh.
Well, that is one version of events.
The second version of events is: my siblings and I had spend the year driving each other up the walls. Up the walls, through the ceiling, past the colony of attic-dwelling dust bunnies, around the rafters and straight to cracking our skulls on the new roofing tiles (terracotta).
The thing about the house we were living in at the time…it was weird. It was a weird house. Rooms with too many corners. Windows shoved in bizarre places. Odd flourishes of grandeur.
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It occurs to me, in hindsight (glorious, alluring, unobtainable hindsight), that if one is determined to go about removing a door in this manner, there is probably a correct order in which to remove screws from a doorframe.
I did not choose that order.
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At this point, it may have occurred to some of you that I am not much of a planner.
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Dear Reader, let me snatch back my words. Earlier, I compared my tale to the Tragedy of Icarus. This was not wholly accurate, because you will note that Icaraus’s primary tragedy was that he was an insipid little bitch who couldn’t get his act together.
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Let us skip ahead.
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