Family Stories Both Funny & Terrible

[Namid]

My son who is now 15 will kill me if he read this .
Every so often my son and I would go to eat with my parents. This spot was well liked by older people so when he came in it was like he had a bunch of grandparents and he made sure he was on show alot. He was half way done with his meal when nature called and he announced to everyone there that “I have to POOP”. I was turning red. I picked him up and ran with him because this sounded like it might be serious. As we were running he hollered out “look I’m flying”
There was one stall open and we took it. As he sat there grunting loudly I was sooo glad we had walls. I noticed nothing was going on and asked if he was done, thinking I ran all that way for a false alarm. He looked at me red faced and said “I can’t poop…squeeze me!” The lady in the next stall couldn’t quit laughing.

 

[vluvski]

Namid:

My son who is now 15 will kill me if he read this .
Every so often my son and I would go to eat with my parents. This spot was well liked by older people so when he came in it was like he had a bunch of grandparents and he made sure he was on show alot. He was half way done with his meal when nature called and he announced to everyone there that “I have to POOP”. I was turning red. I picked him up and ran with him because this sounded like it might be serious. As we were running he hollered out “look I’m flying”
There was one stall open and we took it. As he sat there grunting loudly I was sooo glad we had walls. I noticed nothing was going on and asked if he was done, thinking I ran all that way for a false alarm. He looked at me red faced and said “I can’t poop…squeeze me!” The lady in the next stall couldn’t quit laughing.

Poor kid! I once was counted absent from school in 1st grade because I was in the bathroom terribly constipated during attendance. I got in trouble when I sat down in my desk without arriving with a tardy slip, then when I rectified the situation with my teacher, had to go to the principal and explain myself there, too. I’m still not sure why I had to go to the principal since the teacher seemed to believe me.

Also in first grade, I was pretty good at math. Good enough that even some of the “smart kids” felt they needed to copy my paper. The teacher didn’t believe me (or didn’t care) when I tattled (I was an awful tattle tale), so I took matters into my own hands. First I turned the paper, moved my arm, laid another sheet across my answer paper… which my classmate very blatantly looked around or moved.

Finally I got up, and positioned myself under the time out desk in the back corner. hahaha, no one could cheat off my paper now. Then I got in trouble for leaving my seat. My parents never were very fond of that teacher.

Then there was another time I got in trouble for chewing “gum.” I was rarely allowed to chew gum at home, and the rule at school was no chewing gum. That sticky tack on the wall looked like gum, so I would gather up a little ball and chew it. I knew it was gross, but I didn’t care. I still remember the taste, and I kind of liked it at the time. Call me strange! The teacher noticed I was chewing something, and asked if I was chewing gum. Honestly, I answered, “No.” “Then what’s in your mouth?” silence. I didn’t want to admit I had been stealing little bits of sticky tack from the backs of posters (not enough to make them fall, just enough to accumulate a tasty treat). I not only got in trouble for chewing gum, but for lying to the teacher as well, when I hadn’t done either.

 

[vluvski]

This one is from my fiance’s family.

The oldest son, about 5, was very fond of his younger brother, and was quite looking forward to being a big brother again with the birth of number three.

He cuddled up with the new baby, played with her like a good big bro. Then she started getting cranky, and Mom whisked her away for a changing.

Not wanting his precious baby sister to leave his sight, he watched as Mom pulled off her diaper. But when the diaper was gone, his attitude totally changed. He started crying hysterically and hid in the corner.

When Mom finally got him calm enough to explain why he was upset, he confessed that he was very concerned about the baby’s “broken peter.” He had no idea that his sister would look different from him and his brother down there. How precious!

He now has two lovely ‘sons’ with broken peters. Hopefully he’s straightened out on that issue by now.

 

[Jennifer_J]

My parent’s divorced when I was quite young, around 3 so I shouldn’t remember this–but I do.

We (my mom,sister and me) were going to pick up my dad from work in this old green Ford (I think) truck. Well, the brakes went out but Mom managed to make it all the way to dad’s work, that is right to the gate or I should say, through the gate! She yells at us to get down in the floor board (ah, the days before seat belts or child safety seats) and bam! we hit the gate and then a truck parked on the other side. We weren’t going very fast so the damage was minor, but Dad comes out and asks “why did you do that?” sigh no wonder they got divorced!

I don’t think I have very many stories, my dh’s family on the other hand have gobs of them. I"ll have to sift through and find some good ones!

Jennifer

 

[Jennifer_J]

Ah, here’s one I always remember about my dh’s little cousins:

C and M’s parents took them to a restaurant and the little angels went to the bathroom. There was a payphone by the bathroom. M decided to use the phone and he dialed 911 So rescue workers arrive and the family instantly knows who called. M got into some trouble. I’d like to say he’s grown up and changed, but at 18 he’s still a lot of trouble!

There’s also the time M started collecting ants in a little bottle. He took them in to show Granny, who wasn’t in the kitchen–so he left them there for her on the counter…she was thrilled

My dh also liked to torture his sister. One day he was driving them to school and he was saying gross things to tease her. She warned him she was going to throw up, he didn’t stop, so she did–all over his car! He had to clean it up, too. Of course his sister wasn’t an angel–she once backed his car up in the drive way and ripped the door off his car!!

Jennifer

 

[BLB_Oregon]

Jennifer J:

C and M’s parents took them to a restaurant and the little angels went to the bathroom. There was a payphone by the bathroom. M decided to use the phone and he dialed 911 So rescue workers arrive and the family instantly knows who called. M got into some trouble. I’d like to say he’s grown up and changed, but at 18 he’s still a lot of trouble!

I know of several instances, including a family friend, where a hospital or nursing home patient didn’t like the care they were getting and called 911 from their hospital beds! The dispatcher called their nurses’ station, to make sure someone was still at home. It’s an eye-roll laugh for the poor nursing staff!

 

[maryceleste]

Picture, if you will, a family on a camping trip, driving along a scenic Rocky Mountain pass. Picture a wood-panelled station wagon, towing a pop-up trailer… classic images of wholesome American family life.

Well, things weren’t so idyllic inside the car. My brother and I got into the “he’s on my side” routine, and we WOULD NOT STOP WHINING. Eventually, my dad just lost it. He took off his baseball cap, twisted around in his seat, and started whacking madly at us with it, like we were a pair of oversized flies.

Unfortunately, he was driving at highway speed at the time. The car lurched and swerved toward the guard rail. The trailer started to fishtail. We came very, very close to going over the edge. (Did I mention that it was a sheer drop?)

Every time I see a baseball cap, or a picture of the Rocky Mountains, I’m reminded of that near-fateful day. Most of all, though, I remember the look on my dad’s face when he turned around. He practically had steam coming out his ears. It was priceless.

 

[MarthaMartha]

SeekerJen:

And another pet story: my parents have an 18-year-old cat, who showed up on our front porch when I was 9 and never left, thanks to Grandma (from the story above) who was watching me while parents were out, and who found a can of salmon to give the “poor little hungry kitten”. Anyway, I wanted a pet, this one appeared to be free, and since Grandma (who lived with us then) kept feeding her, my parents figured they might as well take her to the vet and then just keep her. The vet informed us that her only problem was a major case of fleas, and since the office didn’t do flea dips on weekends, we should try a bottle of this special shampoo on the cat (this was before the development of those terrific Advantage flea drops, which I highly recommend). So we trooped home and down to the basement laundry tub. Mom plunked the cat in the tub and turned the water on. Shortly after this I started backing away in fear because the cat was howling like I have never heard before or since. She started trying to climb over Mom, using claws, and my normally mild-mannered and prissy Mom started yelling and swearing like a sailor, right next to the open basement window. I didn’t even know she knew all of those words. I can only imagine what the neighbors thought, and I’m not sure that cat ever got another bath.

Oh, how funny. Our first cat, who lived to be almost 18, was a mean but loveable old cuss who hated any kind of ministrations (brushing, bathing, and forget anything veterinary). We solved the bath problem by using the mousse type of cleanser that you just work into the fur and then towel off. I used to lock us in the bathroom so he couldn’t run away when I did that. He didn’t yowl and claw, just kept leaning against the wall so I couldn’t rub the foam in.

 

[Aurelia]

Somehow it’s hard for my family to get our act together and make it on time for Sunday Mass. We’re usually walking in at the tail end of the entrance procession, if we’re even that early. My 14-yr-old daughter hates it when people turn to stare at us coming in late. On the First Sunday of Advent last year, we were actually on time. The priest, altar servers, etc. were still standing at the entrance to the church, by the large Advent wreath which, for some reason, was back there instead of in its usual place up in front of the altar. Oh, good, I thought, for once we were going to make it in before the priest. As we stepped through the doorway, the commentator up front told the congregation to stand and face the entrance because the priest was going to bless the Advent wreath. So there we were, making a grand entrance with all eyes of the congregation upon us.
But we were ON TIME.

 

[PraRFLEsEkHm]

One day, in the springtime, our rather large long-haired cat ‘escaped’ outside and climbed a tree. Unfortunately for him, this was a tree that the local crows had picked to nest in and raise their young. Crows, being rather on the large side themselves, and intolerant of felines in general - took offense at ‘fuzzy’ climbing ‘their’ tree to escape me chasing him. Soon as he got within 5 feet of the nest, I’d bet there were at least 10 [seemed like 50] large, angry, black birds swooping and cawing and generally raising cain with him. Poor fuzz, he never made it outside before in his life - except to come home with me, and 1 move. He didn’t know what to think, well it didn’t take long before he dove out of the tree and just thought he could walk away…NO. They chased him. Fuzzy is kinda high strung [more-so now] and didn’t seem to understand they wanted him gone, well he got the hint when they actually dove at him, in the open…he didn’t seem so large after that - apparently he didn’t think so either. He started howling, and hightailed it into the house, under the bed, a look of sheer terror on his furry little face. He refused to come out from under the bed - for ANYTHING, for 3 weeks!.

Now - I told you all that to tell you this… Remember the full-grown Siberian from the above post? With Tweety? Well - this same dog knew fuzz was hiding in our room, under the bed. [We took him in a litter box, and food/water because he absolutely *refused to come out of the room, and barely came out from under the bed.] Well after about three weeks he finally ventured out of the room. Unfortunately, he snuck out of the room just as my wife was closing the bedroom door…he made it about halfway down the hallway when Thor went to investigate what was happening down that way. Here we now have one very paranoid cat, and a large dog who hasn’t seen the cat in awhile and wants to say ‘hi’, in the same hallway - with no exit for the cat save past the dog… Well, Fuzzy came un-glued, lets out a screech, and freezes for a minute or so, Thor just kinda looks at him and then moves towards him tail just a waggin’. Now - fuzzy is around 25#, and all hair…white to boot. I have never seen him move so fast before. He came flying down the hallway, just a blur - past the dog and into the kitchen. Launched himself towards the window [a good 15 feet away, thankfully not breaking it, how I have no idea] and proceeds to actually climb the glass for a ways. Finds he isn’t gonna make it wherever he was heading [ceiling I guess] and launches himself off the window over towards the wall. I had the battery box for the boat there, kinda in the corner and he lands next to that, Thor by this time thinks the cat is playing tag or something and is sorta running that way to meet him. Fuzz naturally flips out again, gets on top of the battery box, and just freezes…literally. I told Thor to ‘stay’ and he did, went to get Fuzzy and take him back to our room, and he was actually stiff - scared stiff, tail straight up, hair straight out, and eyes WIDE open, mouth open. I went to pick him up and he was literally stiff as a board. Keep in mind all this happened in the space of maybe 15-20 seconds…tops. He didn’t actually loosen up until I was back into our bedroom, where he disappeared under the bed…for another 2 weeks. Took him almost 3 years to finally chill out and be ‘normal’…whatever that is.

 

[Santa_Cruz]

PraRFLEsEkHm:

He didn’t actually loosen up until I was back into our bedroom, where he disappeared under the bed…for another 2 weeks. Took him almost 3 years to finally chill out and be ‘normal’…whatever that is.

OHH, Poor thing. 3 years!! how sad for the poor kitty.

 

[leschornmom]

My mother just reminded me of another very funny yet terrible story involving my husband! (This is the same Man that “tossed” our cat, Inky.) He really is a very intelligent man…That’s why we find it so funny when he screws up!
Any way my DH prides himself in his good hiegine and is always very careful about hand washing. He’s the type that uses a paper towel to open a public restroom door after washing. He puts tp on the seat if one of our kids has to go potty too.
Any way after doing some major yard work one day he went to the restroom to relieve himself. Though he washed his hands afterwards it didn’t accur to wash them BEFORE he went potty. Any one care to guess what happened?
YUP! Poison Ivy! Well, Poison Oak any way. He was so swollen and tender that he ended up having to go to the Dr. Well, Doc took one look and his exact words were, “Ouch! Man! I’m not even gonna touch that!” He had to get a steroid shot! Twice! The poor guy had to wear sweats for two weeks, even to work. Imagine explaining that one to your boss and co-workers. I think he ended up telling them he had a skin condition or something.
Now he washes his hands before he goes to the restroom too!

 

[JCPhoenix]

I actually wrote this for publication once, so I’ll just give you the synopsis:

When I was a little girl I took a summer class through my school…ecology. Through that class I became fascinated with fish, never having realized before what their lives entailed. So I begged and Mom, realizing that I was asking for a pet that cost somewhere around $1.80 each for 2, understood this was a good thing. So I got the fish bowl ready and decorated it in preparation for th guppies, which I named stripe and swish.

I had decided that the fish seemed insulted by the small amoung of fish flakes I gave them so I decided they were shunning the food because I hadn’t given them enough…so I fed them roughly the amount needed to feed my dog per day.

They still didn’t seem to eat and the flakes melted and made the water cloudy.

Then one of the fish began to float, so I sat by the fishbowl and encouraged the little guy to live. I even “read” the Bible to them, telling them what Jesus said about living.

Then inspiration hit and I realized I needed to clean the bowl…so I took it to the kitchen, placed the strainer in the drain and dumped the water. I didn’t want them to “drown” in the air so I turned on the water full blast to be sure they had enough water so as to breathe. I filled the bowl with clean, cold tapwater and then scooped the fish up with my hand and put them back in the bowl.

They both began to float, and finally I realized they were dead. My prayers did not bring them back, so I had a little private burial service and placed them under the maple tree, prime cemetary plots in the center of our yard. I placed my favored plastic flowers at their graves and had a funeral.

After a couple weeks I became curious and so, without telling anyone of my sacrilege, I dug up Swish and Stripe. Carefully I opened the paper towels which held them…and nothing was left.

I looked up toward heaven and said, “God, I hope you took the fish because if you didn’t that means the cat ate them!”