grown-ups: family

When I was little and doing something to make my mother angry, she'd tell me that if I didn't stop "her Giraffe and her iron would descend upon me." Only years later did I realize that what she was really saying "Her wrath and her ire" - Since I didn't know those words I had translated them to the closest words I did know - To this day I picture the giraffe and the iron floating down towards me when I think of her getting angry!

I used to believe that my Dad was the tallest man in the world, thanks to my Mum being so proud at how tall he was. Then one day at the department store a rare black man that was a great deal taller than my Dad walked past us and I remember being so stunned, not at the fact that he was black, but the fact that he was taller than my Dad. I asking my Mum about that and her reply was that blacks are like that. I still never understood her answer and she wouldn't elaborate...

when i was little and my mother was getting angry with me, she would tell me that she would take me down to the woods and give me to the used kid man. he was a man that took bad kids and ate them. it scared so bad i used to cry.

When i was in kindergarten, my mum told me my nan was a pirate because of the way she cut cheese crooked. i took that literally and told my class for show and tell that my nan was a pirate and so i would grow up to be a pirate and steal everyone's treasure.. the teacher then made me sit down..

I used to believe that my Mom had sewn tiny hidden microphones into all my shirts, because it seemed like she always knew what kind of nonsense I was getting into.

I used to believe that my dad knew everybody that you needed to know - and although I'm now 25, I'm still not convinced that he doesn't. He knows who to speak to to get - including a special price on concert tickets, a cheap (but excellent) photographer for my wedding, and all manner of cheap reliable tradesmen.

Here in NJ, there used to be (I don't think it exists anymore) a psychiatric hospital commonly referred to as Marlboro...from the town or township it was in, I think.

When I used to drive my mother to distraction, she'd tell me I was going to "Drive her to Marlboro". In my naive, little kid mind, I thought she meant that she was going to change cigarette brands.

I was cleaning my bike one day, I was about 10 years old. Dad came in and saw I was having a bit of a hard time getting it clean, and told me I'll have to use some "elbow grease"
He went away and I was left wondering where this elbow grease was, so I went and asked my mum. They had a good laugh at my expense!

My uncle was always teasing me and my brother, and by the time I was in my late teens, we were both so used to his b.s. that we took anything he said with a grain of salt. One day he told us there was a movie called "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes". We didn't believe him...and then years later we found out it was true.

I grew up in a Russian immigrant family and I was used to hearing my father's name in Russian, which with English letters would be "Seroja". Also, my father owned and worked at a signs store named "Signs, Signs, Signs". Every time I was at his office with him, which was pretty often, he would answer the phone "Signs, Signs, Signs". So one day he brought a friend over and so I asked his name and my dad's friend said "I have the same name as your dad. Do you know your dad's name?" And I said, "Of course! It's Seroja." So he replied, "And what is it in English?" So of course I said... "It's Signs Signs Signs!"

When I was younger my parents would sometimes go out on weekdays, and our older brother would babysit us. To compensate for leaving us alone, my parents would allow us to sleep in their bed. Every time they went out, I thought they would die in a car accident and we'd be left all alone. I would cry my eyes out, covering my face in my Mom's pyjamas, trying to comfort myself with her smell. I would literally cry myself to sleep. Then, later on I would wake up in my own bed, and I'd be relieved, because that meant my dad had carried me to my bed and they were back home. Safe.

I am the second child in my family, coming after my sister Liz. When I was 3 or 4 years old, I used to think that every family has a Mom, a Dad, a Liz, and another guy, which in my family happened to be me.

At one time when my brother and I were misbehaving and getting on our parents' nerves, my father said "Oh, do what you want."

We thought he meant it - so of course we got in even more trouble.

my friend from preschool, told me about her twin sister (they were both black) and asked me if i had a twin.. naturally, being the competitive one that i was, i said yes and told her that they had dark skin like hers and long black hair in cornrows like hers.. soon i realized, that i wasnt black.

When i was a child my Grandfather had me convinced he was a girl before he was a boy! And that if i didnt behave he would make me change into a little boy as well!

I used to believe…

a frequent fantasy, until about age 6,
was that my parents were aliens and wearing very detailed human suits. On some given day, they were going to "unzip" their disguises and reveal their true appearance. This may have been fed by the old TV series Mission Impossible with Martin Landau pulling off ocmplex masks.

I used to believe my Dad when he said he could lift a house with his hands, but he couldn't show me cos he'd break the furniture inside. I used to tell all my friends how strong he was!

I used to beleive that my parents had magical powers. Every time they kissed a boo-boo, it went away. Every time I asked a question they knew exactly the right answer. Even realizing that it wasn't magic, just wisdom, I was scared to death when I got pregnant at 18. I told my mom that I didn't have the "magic" of parenting and that I would be a failure. She of course had no idea what I was talking about. (I got the magic a few months later)

When I was around five or six, I once asked my parents that if I hadn't been born into their family would I have been born into somebody else's. It took a while for my dad to stop laughing ...

When I was about 6 or 7, I noticed that George Washington wore breeches and Abraham Lincoln wore trousers. Therefore, I concluded that my father, who wore trousers, must have been a contemporary of Lincoln.