Family Stories Both Funny & Terrible

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BLB_Oregon

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On request from the “Guilty Pleasure” thread.
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Lovemyfaith:
Can someone please start a thread of funny family stories? Being the youngest of eight (and the most picked on IMHO) I have a lot. I don’t know how to start threads, but that flying frying pan and killer granny story have me laughing.
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The stories in question were not just funny, they were terrible:
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Arlene:
… this reminded me of a bit of family lore that happened way before I was born. My mom and dad were having a doozy of a fight, and my mom threw a cast iron skillet at my dad, then called him a coward cause he ducked. Per the story, she screamed at him, “You gd coward, stand there and take it like a man!!”
Not funny, but what can I say???
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BLB_Oregon:
One involves a family member whom the family would not permit to drive. Stories of her ineptitude abound, but the last straw was when she ran over a neighbor’s dog that was sleeping on the warm pavement in his own driveway. She honked the horn, then just kept going. Thuh-thump. Thuh-thump. Yes! She ran over the poor thing twice! The only “up” side to the story is that the animal may have never known what hit him. Her excuse? “Well, I honked! I thought he’d get up!” Awful, tragic, terrible, but… funny.
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vluvski:
while we’re talking about pet executions, my fiance’s grandmother dismembered her cat when it was resting comfortably in the inner workings of her recliner. :eek:
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Telling family stories that some people in this world would hide because they think they are “not funny” is definitely a “guilty pleasure”…because they aren’t just funny, they are hilarious. I think that if the story had a happy ending, it may be re-told as a comedy. Isn’t it true that the best comedies in literature are the ones that so easily could have been tragedies? And even some true tragedies are so stupid or so sad that you still just have to laugh. Then cry. Then cry with laughing.

Ok, so add “Kids don’t you try this” when you tell them the truth about the knuckle-headed things their siblings or their ancestors did way back when. Our family has to do this, as some of them involve dynamite, and others involve driving under the influence. We tell them, anyway. Sorry, but… they’re funny.

Repeat Disclaimer! KIDS, YOUNG AND OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER!! DON’T YOU TRY ANY OF THIS!!!
THESE STORIES ARE FOR REPEATING… NOT RE-ENACTING!!
(This means YOU, David Letterman!!)

Now… Pass out the Kleenex and Let the story-telling begin!
 
I am laughing as I type this. I have 2 stories. The first is when my sister (now 43) was around 4 or 5. It was near Easter and we had one of those pink Easter chicks that you could get anywhere. She was pushing it around in my brothers truck in the kitchen. All was well until it hopped out of the truck and my sister knelt on it. Squished it …FLAT… Boy was she heartbroken. My mother was sick when she had to scrape it off her pants AND the floor.

#2 We had a dog who was into everything. My brother had a rabbit. Rabbit died.Brother buried it in the yard. Dog dug it up and was playing with it.My brother was screaming about Bun Bun and Charlie. 6 kids outside trying to catch a runaway dog with a rabbit dangling from his mouth. :whistle:
~ Kathy ~
 
Oh geez, I love funny/terrible family stories. Our family’s favorite is the story of the l’il rascal.

About 15 years ago, the women in my family took a trip to Kansas City to go shopping. We were at the Crown Center, which at the time was a pretty fancypants mall. My oldest sister, Mary, has multiple sclerosis and sometimes uses one of those mobility chairs (a L’il Rascal) to get around. While we waited for part of the L’il Rascal to arrive (the seat was in my aunt’s car for the trip down) Mary decided to show off how cool she was riding on it.

Mary, who is a plus sized, no-makeup wearing, once won a Fr. Mulcahey from MASH lookalike contest, terry-cloth short wearing woman, was riding the L’il Rascal like a scooter- standing up as she rode up this little incline acting like she was Miss America or something. What she didn’t notice was the small metal bar across the carpet at the top of the incline.

You can guess it. She hit the bar with the L’il Rascal and the whole thing flipped over. While in mid-air, her red terry-cloth shorts and big white grannypants got stuck on the handlebar thus exposing her hiney while she bounced on the ground. In a brief second, the three of us watching held our breath and then saw that she was laughing hysterically, so we let go. We were in the crouched down, bent over, legstogethersowedontpeeourpants position as the other bystanders looked at us like we were the sole owners of the hearts of darkness. I know, I know, we are sickos, but it was the funniest thing I ever saw.

This is still our favorite family story and I believe also one of Mary’s favorites.
 
Boy do I have some for you! I’ll go one at a time.

On a family camping trip when I was 13, we were all going about our business, goofing off, enjoying the time outdoors. It was hot; I got thirsty and ran back to the tent to take a nice big swig of water from the thermos.

I knocked it back, and felt something very un-watery in my mouth. I spit it all back in right through the spout, and slowly opened the lid to see what it was. I thought it might be one of those crushed-up looking furry pollen stem things from a tree (I can’t remember my botany, it’s called a peduncle or something). To my horror, a fat, furry caterpillar was floating inside. It must have crawled inside the spout and sat there until I washed it into my mouth with a greedy gulp.

To make matters worse, it was a semi-poisonous caterpillar that gives you an irritating tingling feeling if you touch it. I kept clawing at my tongue all day trying to get the feeling to go away.
 
My household is too stiff-a**ed to have anything funny/terrible happen. I’ll tell you if things budge.
 
Oh, what to tell next…

Also when I was thirteen, there was an expanse of sand dunes about a block from our house. It was a neighborhood pasttime to ride bikes there.

I went out with my brother (2 yrs younger) and his friend. I looked for the highest dune and walked my bike to the top. I didn’t want to be considered a wuss! Not realizing my fears were well-founded, I convinced myself it was all in my head and took off down the side. When I hit the valley between dunes, I flew not quite over my handlebars, more like across or through them.

I ripped the front of my shirt wide open, and had a dirty, bloody scrape across my budding bosoms. Still wanting to play it cool but very much humiliated and in pain, I crossed my arms across my chest and rode hands-free home before I started crying.

Thankfully my brother and his friend were having too much fun to notice I had changed my shirt when I came back to tell them the dunes were much too dangerous and they had to come home.
 
A few years ago at a family reunion (my siblings live all over the country) My “Country boy BIL” sat on my deck with a Coors beer can in his hand watching my bug-zapper killing the insects seeming to enjoy himself. My brother had a Jeff Foxworthy book in his suitcase and showed it to us, It actually said "You know your a redneck if your idea of a fun Saturday night is a bug-zapper and a six pack of beer:D We all got a big laugh over it including my BIL. He teases us to, He used to watch the Sopranos not for the plot, but so he can learn how to speak “Jersey” and communicate with the in-laws.😃 It’s all in fun.
 
A few years ago my husband and I went to a hardware store and bought a large cabinet which came in an oblong box. My husband had it strapped to the roof of the car, and we started for home. The road we took went past the cemetery, so my husband decided to make a stop to visit his parents’ graves. So there we were, turning into the cemetery with a large oblong box on top of the car. To this day I wonder what passersby were thinking–a do-it-yourself burial? Even worse, what were they thinking when they saw us pulling out of the cemetery with a large oblong box on top of the car? Bringing grannie home for the week-end?
 
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Aurelia:
A few years ago my husband and I went to a hardware store and bought a large cabinet which came in an oblong box. My husband had it strapped to the roof of the car, and we started for home. The road we took went past the cemetery, so my husband decided to make a stop to visit his parents’ graves. So there we were, turning into the cemetery with a large oblong box on top of the car. To this day I wonder what passersby were thinking–a do-it-yourself burial? Even worse, what were they thinking when they saw us pulling out of the cemetery with a large oblong box on top of the car? Bringing grannie home for the week-end?
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That is too funny:D Just make sure she’s back before sundown Sunday:D
 
The same family member who lost her driving privileges was also famous as a “killer” cook…that is, she didn’t believe in germ theory. The most famous example was her salad dressing. The family wondered why they often got an upset stomach at her house, until they saw how she made her ranch dressing. She made the kind where you have the little packet of spices and you add them to the mayonaise, buttermilk, or sour cream or whatever is directed and that’s your dressing. It turns out that whenever her dressing ran low, she just added the new dressing fixings to the* same container*! The family dubbed the dressing “Poison Valley Ranch” and warned all dinner guests who came to visit to avoid it.
 
This past summer during an incredible heat wave here in the Central Valley my 17 year old cocker spaniel “Pupi” (pronounced “Puppy”) passed away on a Sunday afternoon. I was in Washington at a speaking engagement and did not know about her passing until I landed in Sacramento. It was about 110 degrees that day at my home in Modesto. My mother called to tell me Pupi had gone to doggy heaven and, because all the kids were coming over she had moved Pupi to the trunk of her car. I called one of my sponsees - who is a vet - and she suggested I stop and get some bags of ice. Her exact words were, “In this heat, Leslie, it is not going to be pretty real soon.” On the way home I stopped and bought several bags of ice. Once at home, I packed the ice around Pupi in the trunk of Mom’s car.

We are Italian. It suddenly struck me - I had a family member “on ice, in the trunk”. I started laughing. My 83 year old mom came outside and I told her. She started laughing - at the same reminding me that we are “not those kind of Italians”. I laughed harder. My brother pulled up in front of the house with the three kids. My mom and I are outside, standing in front of the open trunk of her car, with our companion of the last 17 years lying dead inside, doubled over in laughter. He looks in the trunk at the dog on ice and he starts laughing…while we are trying to shield the sight from the 4 year old…which didn’t work because her 9 year old brother immediately yelled “Oh No Pupi’s DEAD, Jillian” in only the way that an older brother can torment a little sister. Jillian starts to cry until she looks into the trunk and says, in an astonished voice (and sounding about 8 times her age) “what in the WORLD is Pupi doing in Grandma’s trunk?”

That was it. I am trying not to laugh NOW…:rotfl:
 
I’ve got another one: This happened many years ago to my uncle and aunt. They had my aunt’s elderly father living with them. He had a heart condition and was very hard of hearing. One night, my aunt and uncle returned home from an evening out, only to discover that neither of them had the house key. So they rang the doorbell. Now, Papa wouldn’t be able to hear the door bell, but they had a dog who would run to the door and bark whenever someone was there, and Papa , seeing the dog at the door, would know to open it. So my aunt and uncle are ringing and ringing the doorbell, the dog is going crazy on the other side of the door, but no one is coming to answer. They became alarmed then, thinking that something happened to Papa. So, fearing the worst, my uncle got the ladder from the garage and dragged it over to the bathroom window, the only one which was open. He climbed up, raised the window, parted the curtains, and there sat Papa on the commode. Now, the poor man hadn’t heard any of this–not the ladder being put up, not my uncle climbing, etc. The only thing he knew was that one moment, he was sitting there, minding his own business, and the next, the bathroom curtains parted and somebody was climbing in. Scared the poor man half to death.
 
Similar story here, but a bit more devious.

My dad’s older brother decided one night (well, many nights really) to come home past curfew. He thought he would be clever and climb in through with bathroom window.

You guessed it. Granddad was right there on his throne as my uncle was left dangling half in half out through the bathroom window. I bet he got a walloping there!
 
You haven’t lived until you have had a dog’s leash get wrapped around your ankle and then have said dog run down a steep hill in a Public Park, no less, with you trailing behind in a dress looking like a human parachute. Everyone is laughing too hard when you get to the bottom to even ask if you are o.k. (thankfully, you are, no thanks to them though.) When the dog stopped, it was only because so many people were standing there laughing that he was curious to see why and just stood there wagging his tail (still didn’t know we were connected.) I’m just glad he didn’t decide to run back up the hill for another round before I got untangled. I rarely wear dresses anymore, gee, I wonder why?!
 
I live in a very isolated small communities in the backwoods of Muhlenberg co. Kentucky…with little “towns” littered everywhere one after the other. I live in Beechmont, SIL lives in browder (I could easily walk to her house)…Beechcreek is next, belton, then Greenville…you get the picture…tops 250 people per “town”

My SIL…Marsha…really broke the tension on that horrible day of
9-11…my husband and I were watching the news…really tore up and scared about what was happening in New York…and she seriously asks:

“Do Yall think that me and Libby can go down to greenville and shop…I mean do yall think it’s safe and all?”

She really thought that a terrorist might fly down to Greenville Ky. in Muhlenberg Co. to blow up a court house with maybe 25 people in it. We told her to go ahead…we think it’s safe…

And then rolled laughing :rotfl:

…it was a nice break from the pain and tension.
 
OMG, these stories are just too funny…

I got another one…

When my dad died, I went with my mom to the funeral home to make arrangements. We rang the bell, and the door was answered by this very tall thin man with the most grim face you could imagine. I immediately thought, “Oh my God, it’s Lurch”

Didn’t know this part till many years later, my brother also had occasion to go to the funeral home with our mom. He took one look at the woman in charge, and has been all these years calling her “Morticia”

So my mom and Morticia are trying to plan the funeral. My dad died a very lost and lonely man, and there was NO ONE who could be pall bearers. My mom was wracking her brain trying to come up with people she could ask, and Morticia says, “What about your husband, could he do it?”
 
Some of these are too funny! One of my favorites is there was a little cement patch in our cellar in the house I grew up in. My older siblings (all 7 of them) used to tell me that was the direct doorway to HE**, and at night all those who died as sinners would have to go through our cellar window to get to the doorway. Everytime I heard a bump I was certain it was some poor soul on his way to eternity. And I remember thinking of all the houses in the world why did my parents buy the one with the doorway to HE**?!
 
These stories have kept me laughing all day! I have one more…

My oldest sister (Same one as from the L’il Rascal incident) came to our Fourth of July party a few years ago and with her ears newly pierced all the way up and was wearing a rainbow of earrings. We were all puzzled by this as she is approaching 50 years old and doesn’t exactly lean towards jewelry or other things feminine. One of my aunts asked her why she chose to do that and she said “I’ve seen other women with a rainbow of earrings like this and thought it was really attractive.” Hmm… speculation has always been (again, larger sized, Fr. Mulcahey from MASH lookalike, no makeup wearing, never married) that she might prefer to date ladies but to the best of my knowledge she has been celibate in all regards.

Second part- At the same party, she jumped into our swimming pool and her top came off and her “ladies” were released for all to see.

Months pass. My mom and I went to go visit my brother in New York. I told him the earring story which leaves him with the same speculation that my husband and I had.

While driving in the car the next day, my brother blurts out in front of my very clueless but saintly mother, “So… Mary really came out at the Fourth of July Party?”

To which my mother replied, “I don’t think she meant to have her swimtop fall off. It was just an accident.”
 
The summer I was 14, I was very excited for the Church picnic. A boy I liked very much was definitely going to be attending and I couldn’t wait to have so much time to hang out with him. (Our Church picnics were all day and all evening events–so I was counting on possibly 12 or more hours of possibly being with this boy!) So, pathetic, I know.

Anyway, I was a little jealous of my best friend because she looked much more “womanly” than I could ever hope to look naturally at 14. However, the night before the picnic, she shared with me her “secret” --a padded AND push-up undergarment. She offered to lend me one and I was ecstatic.

The next day, I got up early to “beautify” myself. I was so surprised but thrilled by how effective this borrowed undergarment was! I went to the picnic with several of my sisters to meet up with my parents and little brothers.

When I arrived, I was surprised to see my eight year old brother was busily eating popscicles with the object of my affection, my crush and my crush’s best friend and little brother. I went and got a popscicle and sidled over to say hi.

My crush said, gee Dizzy, you look nice.

My brother said, “gosh Dizzy, you went from an A cup to a windsock!”

I was beyond mortified and went straight home.
 
When my little sister(she’s only 6 months older then my daughter) was little she teased my son terribly (7 years between them), one day she told him he was adopted because he has dark hair and dark eyes, then she, went on to say, Your sister and baby brother have blonde hair and so does your mommy. He came crying to me I explained “You look like daddy, they look like me, but we are all family” when he told my baby sister this she said “Your Daddy was adopted too.” And my mother wonders why he doesn’t call her “AUNT” :rolleyes: She also teased him with a rubber spider when she found out he was scared of bugs, I guess being the youngest she longed for a little brother to pick on;) She still teases him asking girlfriends of his what do you see in this ugly guy or how much did my brother-in-law pay this one to date you?
 
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