Everyone has a little crazy in their family.
Share a quick and funny story from your
childhood (or parenthood) that makes
you wonder just how you all survived.
Read other crazy family experiences and vote on your favorites below.Submit Another Story
After my mom and dad divorced, my dad's brother married my mom. So, my uncle is my dad and my mom is my aunt, my sister is my cousin, and my brother is also my cousin. Furthermore, my cousin is my sister, now, and her brother is my brother instead of my cousin. I think my daughter is my niece and I am my own - well, I'm really not sure. Fortunately, Gramma is still Gramma.
I took my kids to Chuckee Cheeses. I set the 3 yr old loose in the sky tubes & kept the 2 yr old w/ me. I waited. And waited for her to slide down at the exit. Nothing. 20 mins ltr I'm panicked. I hand the 2 yr old to a stranger & go up in the tubes. I run the course & she's not there. Now I've lost 2 kids. When I slide down, both are w/ the stranger crying. I'm the worst.
Growing up I thought it was normal for the adults to announce, "We're opening the wine! Go get all the kids," then proceed to serve small glasses of wine to each child over the age of eight. As I got older, I realized that this was not normal and that my mom and aunt would get my grandma to drink then make a drinking game based on any time she cussed or talked about sex.
My parents sent my two teenaged brothers to pick up a dead relative from the hospital and transport her body to her relatives via horse and cart. This had to be done in the evening and, back in those days, we had no electricity. My brothers both fell asleep and realized as they approached her relative's home, the body was missing. We never stop laughing when he tells it.
Santa brought me a soft-bodied baby doll for Christmas when I was 6 (1958). I loved that doll. My younger sister also loved that doll and she couldn't have it so she decided to throw it down the outhouse potty. I screamed bloody murder for a couple of hours which drove my dad mad. So, reluctantly, he climbed into the loo and fetched my precious baby out. Now that's a dad!
My family went camping and my dad brought his off road motorcycle. During the trip, he experienced a wipeout that left a 8 inch by 2 inch scrape down his forearm. After a few weeks of healing, with the scab ready to fall off, we peeled it off in one piece. During our family breakfast on Sunday, we told my mom it was bacon and she took a bite.
My two older sisters decided they wanted to play cowboys and cows. As the youngest and smallest, I was the cow. They wrestled me down and then my older sister proceeded to the fire place and withdrew the fire poker. I struggled to get away when I saw the red hot poker coming at me. Thank goodness our mother walked in and saved me! To this day, I have no tattoos.
At 2 years old, I was returned to my parents' doorstep by our trash collector and, luckily, friend of my father's. I had managed to wander 2-1/2 miles away from home (losing my diaper along the way), ending up at the intersection of Lakeline Blvd. and HWY 183. I am lucky to be alive and I believe my parents have since recovered from this experience.
of Raising Hope