Lessons In Being An A-Hole: Sorry, Mom.

07/27/2011 · 128 comments

in Grace, Love, My Family Is Strikingly Odd., Social Services

I’m sorry for the time that I thought it would be an awesome idea to take all the stickers off of all our VHS tapes. You and Grace spent many long hours watching each videotape and then locating the corresponding stickers. The living room looked like a fluttery, adhesive, snowy fairy-land. I was just trying to bring a little joy to your life.

Sorry for that time that Grace and Lana called around two hundred 1-900 numbers when you weren’t home, resulting in a hellstorm phone bill. And for that time I tried to order myself and Alvin and the Chipmunks Tape when I was 5. I really really wanted to hear Alvin sing the Beach Boys. It’s all about cultural enhancement.

I’m sorry for each and every time that I used lotion and/or perfumed powder after a bath, making the bathroom look like a fancy old lady had exploded.

Not running on all cylinders here.

I’m sorry for the time that Lana and Grace tried to use a toy blender to make you wine, but instead just chewed up the grapes and spit them into a glass and didn’t tell you that when you drank it.

Sorry for trying to teach our Cocker Spaniel to swim in the indoor hot tub.

I’m sorry for the time I thought I was an Olympian at age 4 and tried to backflip off the microwave while the babysitter was there. It was fucking amazing until I pretty much just rocketed my tiny, frail body right into the paneling and screamed for 2 hours.

I was wearing this at the time.

Sorry for the time you broke your hip and I laughed because that was the funniest fall I have ever seen.

I’m sorry for telling you about the time that my friend Keith and I ran from the cops at that party when I was in high school. And how he almost slammed his car into a cop on the way out of there, and how I almost fell of the car as he almost hit that cop.

Oh, fuck. Did I tell you that story yet? Shit.

Sorry for asking for a trampoline for my birthday, and also sorry that Grace and I spent the next 12 years using it to try to kill one another.

I’m sorry I refused to wear anything but a black-and-white polka-dot bikini and black furry snowboots for the better part of two years. I just looked so fucking bitchin’.

The face of glory and polka dots.

I’m sorry for that time Grace and I used a whole loaf of bread to make tiny little breadballs without your knowledge and spread them all over the backseat so that way you’d get to pick them out of the carpeting for years. It was a fantastically wheat-y snowball fight.

I’m sorry for spinning doughnuts in wheelchairs in the Oklahoma City Mall and almost getting us kicked out. Who knew that ramps and wheelchair brakes were basically THE BEST FUCKING THING EVER?

Sorry for the birthday card I made you one year out of notebook paper that just said, “I’M A COW. MOOOO. COWS.” Even I’m not really sure what I was going for there. It was clearly a rough time for my creativity.

I’m sorry for the time you almost let me fucking drown at Six Flags when the log ride flume nearly ripped my tiny ass off the bridge. I’m sorry you dried me out under the hand driers in the bathroom. Sorry for the time you dropped me when I was a baby and I stopped breathing. Sorry for the time Santa went on a fucking DIET and only wanted carrots and water. Seriously–fuck Santa that year.

I’m sorry that you have to tell your friends that I’m a comedian in comparison with your Veterinarian Daughter. But really, after a childhood like that, I really think this is the best that I can do.

This is no doctor, here.

Sorry for anything you did to your parents as a child (or as an adult)?

Favorite Comment From The Last Post:
From Kelly: “One word, four syllables: Sorostitutes. *Please* tell me how these life-size Bratz dolls get dressed to go out for a night of warm Shlitz in cans and erection-induced “dancing.” A strip of denim does not a skirt make, sweetheart, and I really don’t think your hooch should be waving at me–we don’t know each other like that. High heels will only make it harder for you to climb back home to your studio apartment on Mount St. Slutovich. Also: the perrrrrfume that they were smells like a mixture of unicorn tears, daddy issues, lowered expectations and mild depression. Haaaates them (Gollum style).”


Miss Sassy Pants July 27, 2011 at 2:24 am

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I accidently locked grandma in the closet while you were at work. I am also sorry that I turned off the light while she was locked in there, so she had to wait for 8 hours in the dark for you to get home. Also, I am sorry I got hungry while I was waiting for you and that I ate a whole stick of butter to curb my hunger. And I am sorry I was too stupid as a child to remember the number for 911 so I couldn’t call for help.

When you finally did get home, I am sorry I was too scared of getting in trouble so I didn’t let you in the front door and you had to crawl through the bathroom window to rescue g-ma.


Miss Sassy Pants
Miss Sassy Pants recently posted..#whitegirlproblems

Noa July 28, 2011 at 5:58 pm

A STICK OF BUTTER? WHAT THE HELL POSSESSED YOU TO EAT A WHOLE STICK OF BUTTER? I mean, sorry about your grandma and all, but hey.

Miss Sassy Pants July 29, 2011 at 1:57 am

Apparently I loved butter as a child. I just held it like a banana and took bites out of it.

It’s nauseating to think about it.
Miss Sassy Pants recently posted..Surprise Ruiner

Jessica July 29, 2011 at 8:48 am

I dared a friend in high school to eat a whole stick of butter, he smelt of popcorn for a week after.
Jessica recently posted..Family Vacations or Messing with your kids mile by mile

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:31 pm

If by nauseating, you mean hilarious, yes.

Ani July 28, 2011 at 11:03 pm

…I thought I was the only kid who ever ate a stick of butter. I stole the sugar bowl at the same time and ate mine by dipping it in sugar and taking delicious, sweet, buttery bites. Mom, I’m sorry you discovered the whole thing days later when my bed was infested with ants because I had hidden the evidence under my pillow.
Ani recently posted..The rapture was a success!

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:32 pm

There must be some kind of kid pheromones in butter that make it irresistible if this many people are laying claim.

Marcy July 27, 2011 at 6:10 am

Dear mom,
I’m sorry for ripping open a bag of unpopped popcorn and sending literally thousands of them rolling over your kitchen floor. I’m sorry you were still finding them 10 years later. I’m also sorry for the resulting emergency room visit because I managed to get one lodged in my ear canal.

I’m sorry for sticking a small French fry so far up my nose that the babysitter had to remove it with tweezers and then explain all the bloody tissues from the resulting nosebleed. I think she was convinced she was responsible for brain damage, poor girl.

Oh, and also…. Sorry for the whole being-a-teenager thing. That wasn’t fun for anyone.

Love, Marcy

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:00 pm

I did something similar once with Spaghetti-O’s. They exploded in a perfect circle all over my kitchen. My mom was pissssseeeddd.

Zombie, Esq. July 27, 2011 at 6:22 am

Dear Mom –
I’m going to say sorry for that time we were in Target and as you were trying to drag me out of the book section so we could go eat, I started whining “But Mom…I want to read! Please can I have a book this time? I’m so tired of TV. I just want to read! Please? Just one book? One of the bargain ones, even, Mom! I’m so sick of TV all the time…” I’m sorry for the death stares you got from the ol’ bitches checking out the latest Danielle Steele and the whispers and the old lady who told you having kids who read is such a blessing. I’m really sorry that I was 15 when that happened, so there was totally malice aforethought.
I’m also sorry that I lied just now about being sorry.


PS – Dad, I’m sorry about that time as a kid I woke you up from a nap by smacking you in the face with a plate. The mustache you’ve had ever since then to hide the scar totally makes you look like a ’70’s pornstar, though…So I’d say it was a win, overall.

karmawins July 28, 2011 at 4:42 pm

Lol, I was blessed with two girls were very healthy eaters even at an early age. One day they spied “Popeye” spinach (in a can) at the grocery store and had a meltdown screaming fit for me to buy it. Of course I refused as I knew they would be bitterly disappointed at the taste of canned food…. talk about the stink-eye from the other shoppers who only saw a mom refusing to buy spinach for her poor pathetic little ones.

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:31 pm

That reminds me so much of Hyperbole and a Half’s PARP post it’s not even funny. That is spectacular.

hoodyhoo July 27, 2011 at 6:37 am

Aw, hell, Dear Sweet Mama can pretty much copy and paste this whole thing, except I had no Grace to blame (but I will now, retroactively).
In addition, DSM, I am sorry that when you slammed the car door on your hand and smooshed up all your fingers, that when you finally freed yourself and crawled onto the front porch I refused to let you in because you were — and I quote — “acting weird.” And I am sorry that I totally bogarted the ammonia inhaler thing so I wouldn’t pass out as you drove yourself to the HealthPlus. Also, all the times I stayed up all night moving furniture while you were working night shift and you’d come home and bust your ass tripping on a couch that wasn’t there when you left? Yeah, my bad. I’m also sorry that my solution to the problem that Uncle Tom had called and caught me in the “she’s in the shower” lie that we used so perverts would not know I was home alone was to shove the phone under a pile of all the pillows in the house and lock myself in the closet and cry. I am even more sorry that this resulted in you driving through a SWAT raid. But it was really fucking funny when you think about it.
Love, Hoody
hoodyhoo recently posted..Always Be Prepared

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:31 pm

I am at a family vacation, and my family has been entertained for DAYS with your comment. Clearly, you’re a part of my family.

Dear Sweet Mama July 28, 2011 at 8:26 pm

Damn, girl – I could see the bones in my finger!! It really hurt!!! But, it is a funny story. And the swat team was interesting. Scarey, once I realized that I was possibly going to be a hostage, but interesting. How about sorry you would only eat white foods and I had to go to grade school and explain to the counselor that we were not racists? Or lug you and May Lui back up the hill when you rapelled over the fence to go to the river? Or …..shoot, baby, I know you love me.

Dear Sweet Mama July 28, 2011 at 8:36 pm

And how about the time I had to try to explain the show and tell of me being hungover on the couch after going to see the Chippendales? To your kindergarten teacher?

hoodyhoo July 29, 2011 at 6:41 am

Yeah, forgot those, too. My bad. Again.
hoodyhoo recently posted..The Way Forward

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:33 pm

You had to explain to Hoody’s teacher that you weren’t racist because of “white foods?” That is fucking amazing.

hoodyhoo July 29, 2011 at 6:42 am

I always knew this was so — and you know what that means? It means you’re also related to DSM!
hoodyhoo recently posted..The Way Forward

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:34 pm

Shit. I knew it.

RADventures July 27, 2011 at 8:19 am

I guess I’ll give this a shot. After all, I’m inevitably going to end up in some 12-step program or another, and this will be good practice for that whole “making amends” step.

Dear Mom,
While I have no doubt that you have a genetic predisposition toward anxiety, I have to acknowledge that some of my actions and behaviors over the years may have exacerbated your ever-precarious mental health. Thus, I apologize for the following items (keeping in mind that this list should in no way be considered comprehensive):
—The time you heard me use the term “cuntlicker” when I was in the 4th grade. In my defense, I had no idea that use of this term in front of women was/is an emotional nuclear bomb. Keep in mind, I was only nine years old. Sue me.
—The time you attempted to slap me when I was twelve years old, apparently forgetting that you were several inches shorter than me at that point, and I grabbed your hand in mid-slap. Gosh, you sure looked pissed.
—The time I came home hammered at 15 years old, went upstairs, and promptly puked the contents of my mouth and stomach all over the roof outside my bedroom window. You’ll be happy to know that I successfully found my retainer the next morning, covered in a pile of semi-regurgitated Mexican rice on that same roof.
—The time we went to the mall and I was clad in a blue Izod polo shirt and a white, leather tie. This must have been embarrassing for you, even though I just knew I was more stylish than either of the guys from Miami Vice.
—The time you noticed a draft in the fireplace we didn’t use, examined more closely, and realized that I had been stashing empty beer cans and porn mags up there. Where else was I supposed to keep this stuff? I was only 16, it’s not like I had my own apartment.
—The time you went to the hospital to work the overnight shift, leaving me home by myself to watch the movie Halloween II. Boy, did I show you, watching an R-rated movie by myself. I just wished I’d known that in Halloween II, Michael Myers kills all of the staff and patients during the night shift at a hospital. At eight years old, I guess I wasn’t as clever as I thought.
—The time I was driving your car and rear ended a truck. Still, the girl I was looking at in the car next to me, rather than looking straight ahead at the large truck that had stopped as I kept moving….she was pretty hot.

There’s plenty more, I guess it will take me some time to make those amends.
RADventures recently posted..Bromances: a step-by-step guide.

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:32 pm

Don’t fucking lie to me Roy. You still wear that white leather tie.

RADventures July 28, 2011 at 6:58 pm

Why would I lie, Mizz Noa? Of course I still wear the white leather tie. Seriously, I wear it every chance I get. You should see me making an appearance at a Catholic funeral. One moment, everybody is focused on the dead body in the open casket. The next, everyone turns their heads and thinks, “That tie is awesome.” I’m a rock star in the fashion community, Noa.
RADventures recently posted..Bromances: a step-by-step guide.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:34 pm

I assume it’s completed by you shouting cuntlicker at people. Really, it’s the only way. God I love your shit, Roy.

Roy July 30, 2011 at 1:46 pm

Likewise, mama. You’ve got some great stuff going on here. We’re going to do some damage to this blogosphere, I think. In a good way.
Roy recently posted..Bromances: a step-by-step guide.

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:41 pm

I picture you with a baseball bat with nails, and me with a shovel. One of the cool, posthole shovels, too.

I like it.

@OutofGoldStars July 27, 2011 at 8:42 am

I am sorry about the time I locked my sister in the freezer in the laundry room. I was just trying to do a magic trick.
I’m sorry about the time I ate all of your Channel lipsticks. They tasted better than paste.
I’m sorry about the 2 years I spent changing my outfit for school in the car at the bottom of the street. Clearly, if I wanted to look like a prostitute, I couldn’t very well do that where you would see.
@OutofGoldStars recently posted..harold camping may be on the right track…maybe the world IS ending

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:33 pm

I remember an episode of Punky Brewster where a kid got locked in a fridge and almost died and that makes me a little sad and also fucking excited about that shit. You enacted a real-life afterschool special in this comment.

Jessica July 27, 2011 at 9:19 am

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry about the time when I was 5 and I escaped from Vacation Bible School, walked home, and told you “those kids are giving me a headache”, and you had to go to the church and verbally assault the old church ladies who didn’t even know I was gone for an hour. I am sorry that I wrecked that ATV and burned my leg and got you investigated by the Child Protective Services people. I think it’s perfectly acceptable for a kindergartener to go off roading on a three-wheeled deathmobile, too bad the authorities didn’t agree back in the day. I’m sorry I got so sick and almost died when I was 18…I can’t even imagine how aweful that was for you. And I’m sorry I married him. And I’m also sorry that you didn’t stop me!

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:34 pm

Please tell me you escaped Vacation Bible School ON the 3-wheeler?

Salem July 27, 2011 at 9:22 am


I’m sorry I forced you to cut my hair short like a boy’s and buy me boy clothing and then throw a tantrum when people would ask what your “son” would like to drink when we went out.
I’m sorry that I pushed my younger brother down the basement stairs, causing him to knock out a front tooth and jam the other one up into his gums.
I’m sorry that at 13 I was drinking 99 bananas and throwing up in my sleep on my brand new cell phone.
I’m sorry that I stopped talking to you after you took my to therapy (the doctor was right, I really am bipolar).
I’m sorry that I kicked a few holes in the wall of the master bedroom when I threw tantrums and that I didn’t fix them before I moved out.
I’m sorry that I left you my demon cat with twelve front toes and 14 front claws to ruin every curtain in your house. Oh, and I’m sorry that I didn’t get her fixed so she bitches non-stop while she knocks over your vases.

Wait…this was all my sister.
Salem recently posted..Bridal shower and current happenings

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:35 pm

I was increasingly excited by this comment, and then, you had that kicker at the end that was FUCKING FANTASTIC.

Kelly July 27, 2011 at 9:31 am

Dear Momma Love,

I’m sorry I told my sister that I flushed her cat Weezy down the toilet and did so in such a way that logic was beyond irrelevant and she believed me. Consequently, I’m also sorry that she refused to completely sit her bony ass down on the toilet for three weeks, forcing her to hover over the bowl and occasionally pee in her jam pants, which you then had to wash…twice a day.
I’m sorry for telling everyone during Circle Time in Kindergarten that all I wanted for Christmas was a good job for my Daddy and a new sweater for my Momma because, the fact was, Daddy had a great job and you had eleventyseven sweaters and even took a class on how to decorate them with puff paint, bedazzlers & iron-on screen prints. The truth was/is, I really just wanted everyone to go, “Awwwww” and for all of the adults to revere me as a strong, wise-beyond-her-years child who stayed strong for her family during times of emotional turmoil and economic downturn. In short, I’m sorry I’m Jan Brady.
I’m sorry I thought it would be a good idea to ask you to cut my bangs when I was thirteen, especially because I did so during a critical episode of The Nanny. Maxwell Sheffield asked Fran to marry him, you gasped & screamed and, as my head turned, a quick snip of the shears trimmed by bangs from the bottom of my left eyebrow to the top of the right side of my forehead (you know, where that freckle the shape of Russia is). I should have recognized the momentous occasion you were witnessing and honored it with a reprieve from your stylist duties.

Love always,
Kel Kel
Kelly recently posted..Motivational Notes to Myself, Work Edition

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:37 pm

I now can’t get the song, “christmas shoes,” out of my head, and imagine you as a child on the circle ABC mat singing that. That is fucking hilarious.

Leauxra July 27, 2011 at 9:51 am

I feel like my letter would just be:

“Dear Mom,


XOXO Leauxra

P.S. About the tar incident… The tar was melted in the sun and it was SO FUN to play with and you needed new carpet anyway, and my sister was messier than me NOT because she lost the tar-ball fight but because she rubbed that stuff into her hair on PURPOSE, and anyway, when ELSE would you ever get the chance to bathe your baby girls in gasoline?”
Leauxra recently posted..How Did I Get to be So Ridiculous?

hoodyhoo July 28, 2011 at 6:29 am

oops, left one out… I’m also sorry about the tar, DSM… that girl at the other campsite told me it was chocolate.
hoodyhoo recently posted..It’s All Over, People

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:37 pm

I had to bathe in turpentine once, and I don’t remember why. It was not such an awesome reason as Tar, though.

Angie Uncovered July 27, 2011 at 10:27 am

I’m sorry that I was a heinous bitch for 2 straight years while you were dealing with my younger sister who was a bigger heinous bitch than me. I am sorry for that letter I wrote you and mailed and didn’t get back soon enough where I questioned your ability to be my mom because you loved everyone but me (I had post post postpartum depression). I am sorry that I secretly hoped your new baby with your new husband belonged to my bio-dad (Thank God I was wrong!). I’m sorry you felt the need to beat me when Christy folded me under the station wagon seat and couldn’t get it to open because it was broke and you blamed me for being on the floor and she didn’t get spanked at all (SUPER FUCKING SORRY).

So um… yeah.. sorry.
Angie Uncovered recently posted..School Bus Poetry, Flop Houses, and Huffing – Ah my childhood

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:38 pm

I know this is a really fucked up reaction, but you got folded under the seat?

Angie July 31, 2011 at 7:21 pm

I was on the floor. I suppose that part was my fault for being on the floor. Still unfair to get a beating for it!
Angie recently posted..Weekend Conversations

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:42 pm

Oh, absolutely. I’m not denying your, “hey mom, don’t fucking fold me up in the chairs,” claim about not beating. To be fair, it’s a weird thing, punished or not.

Bananaride July 27, 2011 at 10:33 am

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry that one of the first memories you have of my sister’s babyhood involved finding her covered head to toe in Vaseline. At two years old, it seemed like a good idea at the time to me, I’m sure I thought I was “helping with the baby.” I’m sorry that I also took the time to strip the sheets off the plastic-covered mattress before coating Melissa with said Vaseline, thus converting it into a greased Slip N’ Slide for newborns. I apologize for making certain to not only coat the outside of my sibling in Vaseline, but also being thorough enough to get it up her nose, inside her ears and mouth and all over myself as well. Lastly, I’m sorry that I did not know then that it would be impossible to get bath water hot enough to melt the Vaseline, thus ensuring that you would have two greasy children with you wherever you went for the following week, causing strangers to wonder if you ever bathed the two of us.

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:39 pm

I can’t stop laughing at this one. I just imagine you two on a hot metal slide, and that would be amazing.

elizabeth- flourish in progress July 27, 2011 at 10:50 am

OhMySweetJesus, the things I could write here. I’m debating whether I should do this chronologically, in order of least to greatest cost, or in order of least to greatest number of people offended with my actions.

My thing I’m most sorry for? Asking my mom if I was adopted then crying when she told me “no.”
elizabeth- flourish in progress recently posted..Monday Dare: I’m not in a gang.

Angie Uncovered July 27, 2011 at 12:57 pm

Sorry but that did make me laugh. LOL
Angie Uncovered recently posted..School Bus Poetry, Flop Houses, and Huffing – Ah my childhood

Noa July 28, 2011 at 6:40 pm

BAHAHAHAHA. My sister used to repeatedly lock me in the panty and tell me that I was an alien. She was excellent.

ColinP July 27, 2011 at 11:03 am

Dear Mom,

I would like to apologize for my unwitting experiment with gravity when I was in 3rd grade. I did not mean to let my hands get all sweaty while playing on the hand-over-hand bars in the school playground; I am even sorrier that I thought it would be a good idea to let go right in the middle of said bars which resulted in the shifting of my right wrist about 1 and 1/2 inches from its center point after a bad landing. You should be proud of the fact that I knew something was wrong and proceeded to find the nearest adult to stop the pain and fix the problem however I am sorry that you had to sacrifice a hamburger to the kitchen floor after the school called to inform you that I had broken my arm and was being rushed to the hospital.
ColinP recently posted..Brooklyn’s Finest?

ColinP July 27, 2011 at 1:06 pm

Dear Mom (part 2),

I would also like to apologize for breaking my other arm in gym class in high school. While I did learn my lesson about breaking the first arm, in my defense that time was the right one and this time was the left however at least I did brake it in a completely different fashion. I accept that you did try to teach me to have my shoes tied at all times but we were playing basketball and I didn’t notice that the shoe lace came untied. I was attempting a really awesome quick stop and pivot but sadly my foot did go out from under me.

I didn’t mean to lock my elbow on the way down I was only trying to catch myself to prevent serious injury. When I discovered that my entire left arm was numb I recognized that there was a problem and I did notify the gym teachers right away. Admittedly they did ask me to sit on the bleachers but once my arm went from numbness to extreme pain I did walk to the nurses office after saying to the gym teachers that my arm was no longer numb.

I apologize that my high school had the most backwards telephone system know to humankind; that they couldn’t dial zero to have you paged and that it took 3 hours for them to locate our next door neighbor who eventually came to pick me up and take me home to sit with a frozen bag of peas on my arm until you got home. I apologize that the minute you walked in the door after getting home from work I announced that we were going to the emergency room because I think my arm was broken without letting you wind down a little first.

Lastly I profusely apologize for the born again christian physical therapist that preached to us endlessly while he tortured me with said physical therapy…

Your son,

ColinP recently posted..Brooklyn’s Finest?

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:37 pm

Your poor mother was not only put through the trauma of you being the clumsiest bastard in the world, but then you had her preached to in the aftermath?

Bitch deserves a medal.

ColinP August 1, 2011 at 1:22 pm

Well she did extract her revenge during the “codeine incident” I mention previously. That drive happened after both of the events above.
ColinP recently posted..Brooklyn’s Finest?

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:43 pm

She’s a good woman.

Annie July 27, 2011 at 11:16 am

Dear Mommy,
I am sorry that I sold all your favorite handbags to the neighbors for $20.00, but I needed the cash and you didn’t need that Dooney & Bourke.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:37 pm

Had to get the cash somewhere. I think it was a much better racket than lemonade.

Eric July 27, 2011 at 11:43 am

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry about the kegger my brother and I had at the house when you and dad went out of town and left us home alone for the first time. I have grown older now and yes, I have also come to realize the roof was not an appropriate place to store the dining room set so we could have a dance floor even though it was a really fun place to play quarters. No, it has been 23 years and we still haven’t located Tony, but if you find a skeleton in the bushes, it may be him. Please see if he has the keys to the shed.

Eric recently posted..You can take your “politically correct” and shove it up your ass

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:38 pm

There’s not an amount of money I wouldn’t have paid to witness this entire event going down.

Jessica July 27, 2011 at 12:51 pm

I’m sorry for leaving my little sister in the gutter, but let’s be honest, with what we know now I was doing you a favor. Sorry I’ve always had to do stuff my own way to figure it out for myself. Oh and sorry for announcing to the entire primary class and church-goers all the things you did that weren’t church-appropriate. But hey, I was trying to be honest like you told me too.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:39 pm

I love it when parental lessons come back to bite them in the ass like that. Because really, you were just doing as you were told. Way to be awesome.

Tans July 27, 2011 at 1:42 pm

I would like to apologize for all those nights you thought I was in bed. You were so predictible that I knew once the lights went off, you were in bed for good no matter what. Pretty much every weekend of my high school years were spent sneaking out my window at 11:45 and getting picked up by the next door neighbor (aka “the older son you never had”) so he could take me to parties and then help me sneak back in sometime around sunrise.

I would also like to apologize for putting the ad in the paper that almost lead to your beloved cocker spaniel being re-homed to a nice couple 4 towns over. The bitch wouldn’t stop howling when you left every morning for work, and it was SUMMER. I was a teenager. Teenagers can not arise before 2 PM because they’ve only been in bed for 4 hours by the time 8:00 rolls around. Parties happen. Video games need to be played until then and the explicit MTV videos all aired after midnight, so it was important that I stay up to witness them. Your howling dog was a pain in the ass and clearly needed to go.

I’m sorry that you had to come and rescue me when I flooded the canoe in the river out front of Grams house, but I didn’t want to go to Bob Evans for the early bird special, and I had no idea that torrential downpours could actually drown someone, so you shouldn’t have been so pissed when I panicked.

Still your only daughter (who is way better than that hellion of a son you also have),
Tans recently posted..For These Things, We Give Praise…

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:42 pm

Escaping from Bob Evans by way of canoeing in a dangerous river is the most badass way ever to leave a place. It’s clear to me by reading this that you are ready for the apocalypse, because there’s nothing you won’t do.

Rachael July 27, 2011 at 1:56 pm

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I lied to you when you asked me if I’d ever slept with a woman. In my defense, that was a really fucking awkward question.

Love, Rachael.
Rachael recently posted..Free tickets? You sick fuck.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:43 pm

Legit, yo. That was fucking legit.

Lilscorpiosweet July 27, 2011 at 2:31 pm

Dear Mom I am sorry for wanting to be an only child starting with the birth of my first brother. My whiny 2 year old voice couldn’t sound more petulant when I wanted you to put the brother down and hold me. I also am sorry for all the subsequent actions I had towards him as we grew up thus making me into the horrible older sibling. That wouldn’t have ever happened had I not had siblings. Also I am sorry for inventing new ways to get him into trouble, you never bought the idea that he could have totally done it on his own which resulted with my butt getting spanked. I am also sorry you never saw through my ploys to blame things on my brothers just to get out of trouble myself.

Your horrible daughter

P.S. I am thankful you had them because I realized that I now had a scapegoat that only children dreamed of having. Sorry for using them as scapegoats.
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Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:44 pm

That’s what younger siblings are for–to blame shit on. At least, I think so, because that’s how I grew up and continue to live today.

The Young Girl July 27, 2011 at 3:15 pm

Dear mom-

I’m sorry for the time me and my cousins pulled the ceiling fan out of the ceiling and told you it just fell out. We thought we could get my brother to fly. I’m sorry we pulled the garden hose through the 2nd story window and tried to get my brother to slide down it. if you hadn’t showed up, he would be dead. Sorry for locking my cousins outside of your brand new car so they tried to pick the locks with twigs and broke the locks. I’m sorry being a scatterbrained idiot as a pre-teen and teen. its not my fault i could never find anything or say anything without it sounding like talking back. Sorry for dating so many losers and bringing them home. Sorry that you caught me twice having sex. and that one of those times was with a woman. I’m sorry I didn’t marry our gay neighboor. He was an awesome friend and could do my hair but I have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked out no matter how hard you tried to make it work.

your loving daughter
The Young Girl recently posted..Extreme Couponing!

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:45 pm

I used to get in trouble as a kid for whinging my underpants at the ceiling fan and laughing like a huge asshole when it was like russian roulette with panties flying all around the room. I got my ass beat for that–there’s no telling what would have happened if I’d just straight up torn it out.

The Young Girl August 1, 2011 at 4:58 pm

well my mom couldnt get a straight answer out of me, my brother or my 2 cousins so no one ever got punished for it. It was an old house and shit like that just happened sometimes. but that was not one of those times. I finally confessed to her when I was 18 and she couldn’t beat my ass.
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:44 pm

I loved turning 18 so I didn’t have to be afraid of telling my mom all the shit I did when I was under 18. I then proceeded to give her a heart attack.

Jaime July 27, 2011 at 4:38 pm

Dear mum,
I’m sorry that I stole sips of booze from the family Christmas party when I was 14 and proceeded to sit on a piece of cake that was in a kids lap. I’m sorry my sister and I stole a bunch of free coasters from Starbucks and ran out of starbucks killing ourselves laughing causing you to put your hand over your face and pretend like you didn’t know us. I’m sorry my sister took you into the haunted house at halloween and then laughed like hyena’s while you were too scared to walk past the man with the chainsaw. I’m sorry I crashed your car popped the tire and told you that it was because of the rain and not because I was trying to round a corner going 100km/hr in a 5.0L mustang. I’m sorry I never told you I loved you before you died.
Jaime recently posted..chemegirl: @OhNoaG pray that there are no blunt objects stowed in the overhead compartments?

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:47 pm

Oh Jaime–She knows you loved her, because all kids act a little like assholes, but moms know there’s love behind it.

lola July 27, 2011 at 5:25 pm

Dear Mom,
I’ll keep this brief. I’m sorry for coming home from college and announcing that I had no only lost my virginity but had experimented with drugs. On the flip side, I think you should apologize for not being honest with me about sex. For example, had I known that blow jobs do not involve blowing, it would have saved me a lot of time.
That is all.

RADventures July 27, 2011 at 6:03 pm

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Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:48 pm

Oh man. This was fucking amazing.

Rairy July 27, 2011 at 5:31 pm

I’m sorry we took advantage of the time Dad fell asleep when he was supposed to be watching us to cover the couch with a bucket of peanut butter. I’m really sorry you didnt take pictures.

I’m sorry I hit my younger sister in the head with a shovel and that you spent all that money getting her stitches only for me to help talk her into removing them herself later in the evening.

I’m sorry for all the phones my siblings and I broke while fighting over who would get to call mom about what awful thing the other did. I’m not sorry you didnt figure it out until we told you as adults.

I’m sorry we didnt know how sick I was until so much later. So much yelling and heartache. I’m not sorry we managed to survive and reconcile and that you were still there when I became an adult and learned to be nice again.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:49 pm

Kids and sticky shit are a running theme through these comments, and it makes me never want to have kids.

PS: About that last part–that’s why moms are awesome.

Kim July 27, 2011 at 7:27 pm

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry for that time in kindergarten where I told the teacher mean things about you and told you mean things about my teacher. Oops. It turns out I was too smart for my own good and manipulative to boot from the very beginning. At least I turned out OK, right?

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:50 pm

You turned out amazing due to your excellent early training.

Tazer WP July 27, 2011 at 7:29 pm

Dear Woman Who Spawned Me,

I apologize for being the worst mini-spawn watcher on the face of the planet. For example, allowing Spawn 2 to smash Spawn 4’s pinkie finger between bricks, “to see what would happen”. Or the time I was watching Spawn 3 on the playground, and he jumped off the top of the tallest slide and broke his collar bone. Oh, here’s a good one, how about the time all 3 minis broke that industrial sized canister of soy sauce (I still have no idea why we had that much soy sauce, but I digress) and proceeded to run through the puddle in panic, and then track tiny little soy foot prints down the freshly carpeted hallway and stairs.

Spawn-mother, upon contemplation, I can see why you never did consider me your favorite.

Your least-favorite Spawn, #1

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:52 pm

I can’t imagine you were very old when you did this shit, which kind of puts the blame back on your mom for leaving a tiny child to watch other tiny children. Soy Sauce: her fault. Probably also why you weren’t her favorite.

Ashley July 27, 2011 at 7:56 pm

Dear Mom:
Sorry for that time I changed my brother’s diaper. I didn’t know baby powder lids twisted just a little. He was perfectly happy covered head to toe in a thick layer of baby powder. Anyways, I told you to take him back to the hospital when he was 2 days old. I’m also sorry for that time I was teaching my show lamb how to act in the show ring and he wouldn’t do it… and I made you sit in the car for nearly 3 hours before you threatened to leave me there to walk home. I’m also sorry about the time I finished showing my lamb, had to load him onto the meat trailer and came back… and promptly pummeled my brother for asking where the lamb was. I didn’t mean to make him cry. Nor did I want to cry. And really, who knew that our crying would make my sister cry too??? I can only imagine the looks you got from the other parents.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:53 pm

Oh, the show lamb in the truck. There’s no greater test of parenting than watching your child grow to love one of the dumbest animals God ever put on this green earth and then leaving it to slaughter. Parents can’t WAIT to get rid of that shit, and children see only pain.

Jillian July 27, 2011 at 11:45 pm

Dear Mama,

I really sorry for the one time I got chicken pox. On the airplane. On our way to Germany. I’m sorry for insisting that I pick out my own clothes for Santa Claus pictures, and I’m really sorry for the colorblindness that temporarily overtook me from ages 7-14 and allowed me to wear that puke colored suede skirt with matching clogs and the rainbow knit tights. I’m sorry, kinda, for being the type of person who will agree to help you with anything you need and then sit on her ass and watch America’s Next Top Model all day. But let’s face it. I’m boosting my self confidence by heckling the skinny bitches, and you want me to be confident, right? I’m sorry for teaching my younger sisters all of the lines from Grease before I actually knew what they meant. I’m sorry that you had to watch me split my head open when I fell off the bed and into the bookshelf. I’m sorry that I become a sobbing, unshowered lump of uselessness when I’m on my period, bawling my eyes out because I inherited my grandpa’s sausage fingers and because I can’t find the stuffed hedgehog my ex boyfriend gave me. I’m sorry that I abso-fucking-lutely refuse to eat noodles, cheese, or rice, and that you’ve had to make two separate meals for dinner almost every night for my entire life. I know that cooking for me is a bitch. I’m really sorry for being the insufferable know-it-all in elementary school, complete with front teeth that belong to Roger Rabbit. I wouldn’t want to be that little girl’s mother, either. In fact, I would want to punch that girl’s mother in the face and tell the girl to shut her disproportionate-teeth-filled mouth and let one of the other kids answer the world’s easiest question about basic shapes. You don’t deserve to be punched. And finally, I’m really sorry that I was such a stuck-up prig of a teenager with no spine. I will have very few stories of adventure and misconduct to tell you when I finally feel like I won’t be severely punished (like, when my own kids are so ridiculously cute that you can’t possible cut me out of your life or you won’t be able to dress them in holiday appropriate outfits), and you deserve better. After all the crazy shit you pulled on your mom and dad, I’m a poor excuse for a judgment-impaired young person.


Jillian recently posted..Dreams of Green (Good Lord, Such a Creative Title…)

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:55 pm

1) Please tell me you have that picture of you and Santa still.

2) I’ve never heard a sadder statement than “I’m a poor excuse for a judgment-impaired young person.” And now I have a new insult. Thank you.

Norway July 27, 2011 at 11:51 pm

Dear Mom

I apologize for constantly fighting with my siblings.

I don’t apologize for throwing a hissy fit when you told us that you were having another kid. I was smart at age three.

I apologize for walking a year later than every other kid on the planet so you had to carry me. But really. That’s basically an extra year of my life I spent being lazy. Foreshadowing? Yes.

I apologize for the year you spent trying to convince me to walk by standing me up on one end of the couch and putting Goldfish crackers on the other end as my bribe. I’d still accept those as a form of payment.

I apologize for wrecking the wedding of my preschool teacher in which I was flower girl, by freaking out and running back down the aisle towards where I THOUGHT you were, when in reality you had run up to the front of the aisle to meet me there. I guess this is why I haven’t been in a wedding since then.

I apologize for being the pickiest eater in the entire world, thereby keeping you from most normal-person foods. I know I’m well into being a teenager, but I’m still pretty sure that Mac&Cheese that comes in cartoon shapes tastes better than the regular kind.

I apologize for talking to strangers even when you expressly tell me a thousand times not to. In my defense, some of the best conversations ever occur with strangers. Especially the hot male ones who are around my age.

Yeah… Sorry.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:56 pm


Totally cool.

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:56 pm

But seriously though, don’t fucking talk to strangers.

Norway July 30, 2011 at 1:15 pm

Thank you! My family mocks me for that.

Can I talk to the ones who offer me candy?

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:44 pm


Norway August 7, 2011 at 4:55 pm

WHAT THE CRAP?!?! My life is ruined. Sigh. Thanks a lot Noa.

Andi July 28, 2011 at 9:43 am

Dear Mom,

I’m not sorry for anything. Making a food pile in the middle of the kitchen floor and cutting scallops into my sleeper wristbands with scissors were just my attempts to introduce some art and humor into your life. I enjoyed sneaking the cat into my room in a paper bag and making Joyce snort-laugh in the middle of your Bible Study. Not doing my work for an entire week in 5th grade was my silent protest against having to repeat 5th grade just because you weren’t ready for me to go into 6th. I spent the whole year telling people I flunked 5th because it was easier than explaining the real reason. Having boys over when you weren’t home was just me rubbing it in that I had guy friends and you didn’t. I still do. You still don’t. You’re the only person I know who can make a sexual incident out of talking on the couch with the opposite gender. I’m only sad about running away because it DIDN’T WORK and my real parents never came to get me.

You were expecting a blonde, blue-eyed, curly-haired kid. You thought I was Mexican the first time you saw me. That probably set a bad tone for the rest of our relationship. It’s hard to say in retrospect who has been more disappointed. So I guess I am sorry, but mostly for not being Mexican so you had to take me home anyway.
Andi recently posted..Greetings from the City of Love!

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:57 pm

Your unabashed love of all the shit you pulled as a child strikes a new faith in me. Clearly, I have been looking at my life the wrong way. My mom’s going to have a new wave of fucked up in her life now.

Jessica July 30, 2011 at 9:11 am

I too was a disappointment from birth. You know in Cheaper by the Dozen how they call the one kid FedEx yeah I was called UPS long before that movie came out. I’m the blond blue eyed kid your mom expected, maybe we were switched? She even talks about how when they said I was a girl she made them check again and how she refused to hold me because I couldn’t possibly be hers since I looked nothing like my siblings. I love you too mom, love you too.

Andi July 31, 2011 at 9:56 am

HILARIOUS. You are clearly my long lost switcheroo sibling. We should pull a Parent Trap and go to each other’s family home for Christmas, so they can see what they missed.
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:47 pm

Jessica, you win a fucking gold medal in childhood disappointment.

Margaret Goerig July 28, 2011 at 10:40 am

Oh, here we go.
I’m sorry for the time I closed the car trunk on your head. I’m sorry for the year we all forgot your birthday. I’m sorry for the time you came to visit in Lake Tahoe and we were not using our heat and it was snowing and even when you got sick, we still didn’t turn the heat on. I’m sorry for the time I wandered off in the lingerie section and you thought I’d been kidnapped. I’m sorry for all those seizures in the bathtub. I’m sorry for eating fistfuls of flour. I’m sorry for all those times traveling with you when I couldn’t decide where to eat and kept saying “Just around this corner” until it was like 10 o’ clock at night and we were miles from where we’d started. I’m sorry for that time I was part of the group that dropped our beach towels at the neighbor as she drove home from work, revealing that we had not a stitch of clothing on, and she had to reverse the car and come find you and tell you how awful we all were.
I think that’ll do for now.
Margaret Goerig recently posted..Where the ships come in, before sailing out again

Noa July 29, 2011 at 11:58 pm

The line that killed me was, “fistfuls of flour.” Honestly, how did you even do that?

Misty July 28, 2011 at 12:09 pm

Dear Mother,

I am sorry for stealing the car while you and dad were out one day, and even though I was only 15, thinking “how hard can this be?” and totally making it a good 10 miles roundtrip in the car with no problem, but then slamming into the side of our other car as I tried to pull the car back into it’s spot in the driveway; sorry for the time I totally lied about how my brother got that black eye, and although you never believed me anyway, I was not merely “tossing” the remote to him and it “happened” to hit him in the face. I totally threw that sucker right at him because he wouldn’t get out of my damn chair. Served him right for not listening to his big sister! I’m also sorry for that time you took me on a cruise for my 21st birthday and the last night before we went home, I got so stinking drunk that someone had to call you to come get your passed out, covered in vomit daughter from the bathroom stall, and then you had to drag my ass back to our room and put me, fully clothed, into the shower to wash all the vomit off and then dress your grown ass daughter in her jammies for bed. Yeah, that was bad. Sorry for that one.

Sorry for being a teenager. I was a real bitch. But you got me back for that one because you have been an insufferable, selfish, martyred, whiney child for my entire life, so much so that neither me or my entire extended family can stand to be in the same room with you for more than 5 minutes, so I think we’re even.
Misty recently posted..Drunken Shenanigans

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:00 am

You owe your mom bigtime for that 21st birthday bullshit, because putting someone who’s drunk in the shower is fucking terrible, but when you add in a pitching and swaying cruise ship, it’s much worse.

But again, she knew it was your 21st, so she should have known it was coming.

barefootorbust July 28, 2011 at 12:47 pm

Dear mom,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the time in first grade when you spent money you didn’t have for glasses, only to find each pair you bought me broken and hidden around the house. They just weren’t cool. I’m sorry I convinced my brothers to boil water in the huge stock pot and help me haul it out to the front yard in the middle of winter to make a skating rink. On the plus side, none of us got burned. And to be fair, Mr. Wizard did say that boiling water freezes faster. I’m sorry it left a giant dead spot in the lawn, that can still be seen today when seen on street view in Google maps even after several reseedings and a re sodding. Again, to be fair, grandma told me water boils faster when you add a pinch of salt, but did not explain how much a “pinch” is. I’m sorry I taught my brothers how to break into the locked den so we could watch TV whenever we wanted. Really, we had cable, why weren’t we allowed to watch it? It isn’t my fault my 4 year old brother, after learning the technique, took his library card around the neighborhood looking for a lock that was turned the wrong way. At least we stopped him from a life of crime, right? I’m sorry I was a whiny bitch when my brother was sick with leukemia. I’m sorry I hit him with the rake to make him bleed when I was jealous of all the attention he was getting. To be fair, no one had bothered to explain to me that his meds would keep him from clotting, necessitating an emergency room visit to make the tiny cut stop gushing. I think I was as scared as you were on that one. And I am glad he is fine now. I’m sorry for trying to teach our Japanese foreign exchange student how to make split pea soup in the pressure cooker without knowing how myself. I’m sorry I didn’t read through the directions and opened the pressure cooker right after I took it off the burner, spraying split pea soup all over the popcorn ceiling. Again, no one got hurt, and our foreign exchange student though American cooking was exciting. I say win-win here. Except for the ceiling. I know you liked the popcorn ceiling, but really, that went out with the 70’s, and it just doesn’t hold up to being washed.

Yer loving daughter

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:01 am

I still fucking use that boiling water trick thanks to Mr. Wizard, and was fucking delighted to hear that you used that shit as well. Magical moments.

barefootorbust July 30, 2011 at 6:17 pm

It just occured to me that the reason we weren’t allowed to watch tv when mom wasn’t home was probably because we pulled shit like that.

Yeah, Mr. Wizard was our childhood equivalent of Mythbusters. Though when I watch it now it kind of creeps me out.

Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:47 pm

Mr. Wizard, I assume, has a hugely checkered past.

sophie July 28, 2011 at 1:26 pm

Dear Mother,
I’m sorry for telling you my legs “wouldn’t work” when I was 6 causing you to totally freak out and carry me to more than one appointment with a specialist before they magically started working again. (No, I don’t remember what the hell that was about.) I’m sorry for yelling, “There’s a giant rat behind the fridge!” while you were speaking to a man on the telephone (after all, it was only an opossum). I’m sorry for using all the condoms we found in your nightstand as water balloons. I’m sorry for building a fire on the front porch that your date had to stomp out before he could ring the doorbell. I’m sorry for dropping your punch bowl out the second story window into the azalea bushes because I thought it would bounce. I’m sorry for skipping school that one day in my Junior year…I should have done it far more often…if it had been a regular occurrence you wouldn’t have been convinced that I had been kidnapped and murdered (yes ,I know this was in the Atlanta “missing and murdered kids” time frame).
That will do for now,

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:02 am

I pulled some shit like that when I was a kid. I had, “terrible stomach problems,” for about a year, when mostly, I just didn’t really want to go to school pretty much ever. It was great foreshadowing.

Satan July 28, 2011 at 2:10 pm

dear mom,
sorry i ruined most of your nice shoes by cramming my middle school feet in them, which were already bigger than yours…
sorry for sneaking out pretty much every damn night…
sorry for literally living at my best friend’s house for most of junior and senior year…
sorry that you caught me & ryan having sex that one time…
sorry that i screamed at you for reading my diary, when you really didn’t…
sorry for telling you that i was pretty damn gay and polyamorous and introducing you to the couple i was dating, all at the same time…
sorry for collaging my bedroom walls so thoroughly with tape it took us 3 days to clean it up, much less paint it…
yeah. sorry in general!
Satan recently posted..how not to injure yourself all the effing time

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:02 am

This reads like a novel I would greatly like to read.

Dear Sweet Mama July 28, 2011 at 8:50 pm

Dear Mom – okay, sorry about all the times you had to go to the Board of Education and beg them to let me back in school. Sorry I got in a fight with my history teacher over the Viet Nam war and had to spend the rest of the semester in the counselor’s office. Sorry I had to go to summer school to graduate because they wouldn’t let me back for my senior year. It would have been cool to have the Devil’s Diciples come to graduation. Oh, yeah – sorry about joining a motorcycle gang when I was 16. And all the wild parties. And the times you and Dad had to come and get me, including when little Hoody was 2 and I was incapacitated at my class reunion. Though it did make us all feel as if we had never grown up. And about the time I drank all that Southern Comfort and for some reason stood up on my bed and puked down the wall. I didn’t know where I was at the time. However, I do feel that giving me the same runny fried eggs for 3 days in a row for breakfast following that incident may have been a little extreme. But mostly, Mom, I’m sorry you’re not still around for me to drive crazy and say I’m sorry to.

hoodyhoo July 29, 2011 at 6:44 am

and now my behavior is explained.
hoodyhoo recently posted..The Way Forward

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:03 am

None of this can possibly be real. This is the most ridiculous shit ever.

hoodyhoo August 1, 2011 at 6:54 am

swear on my life, everything we say is ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY true. Truth is, we’re not creative enough to make this shit up!
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Noa August 1, 2011 at 11:48 pm


wagthedad July 29, 2011 at 2:55 am

I’m sorry for the time my brother locked me out in the breezeway and I got out my brand-new electronics set I got for my birthday and hooked the doorknob up to the electrical socket and when he looked through the window in the door and saw what I was doing and didn’t grab the doorknob and I got so pissed I grabbed it myself and nearly died.

Sorry for the time I called you a whore when you told me you were leaving my father, and when you wanted to spend the night over at that guy’s house and told me you were “just friends” and I said “I have lots of friends. But I don’t fuck them.”

Sorry for when I was seven and I told you your gravy tasted like dog food, for which I was banished to my room, but I really meant it, not because I thought it was bad, it was because I actually thought it was good, you see, having only recently discovered what dog food tasted like.

Sorry for eating half the dog food out of the bucket in the utility room.

Sorry for having to launder my bedsheets when I was between 13 and 18. And my underwear too.

Sorry for pissing on the couch in the middle of the night when I was 6 because I was asleep and thought I was standing in front of the toilet.

Sorry for all those years of not lifting the toilet seat.

Sorry for that time when I was 24 and Adam and I went out and came back and made a pizza and passed out so that you were awakened to the smell of burning and smoke alarms while we snoozed away and the pizza looked like an old tire and also sorry I cursed at you when you tried to pry that can of Busch beer out of my hand while I was snoring away.

Fun, fun, fun.
wagthedad recently posted..My Baby is American

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:04 am

Mothers who wash the bedsheets of teen boys are a special sort. Most of the male friends I know had to wash their own shit after puberty for it being just too fucking gross to handle.

April July 29, 2011 at 7:39 am

Dear Mom,

1. I’m sorry I covered my baby cousin in vaseline from head to toe the day before her picture appointment. However, this has come in handy in adulthood as I know how to get my friend’s kids clean when they try it (dawn dish detergent gets vaseline out of hair for those of you needing to know).
2. I’m sorry I drew on my bedroom wall with your lipstick. I was too young to understand that it wouldn’t wash off and I would have never imagined that waxy lipstick shows through 40 coats of paint. Sorry you had to replace the drywall – and no, I didn’t know our house was rented at the time. But look at the bright side, Dad learning how to replace dry wall was very handy when we finally did buy a house.
3. I’m sorry for drinking drain cleaner when I was 3 and having to stay in the hospital so long. I don’t know what I was thinking.
4. I’m sorry that I’m in my 30’s and you still don’t have grandkids but since I don’t even have a boyfriend, please stop holding your breath. I’ll get a puppy or something…would you like a grand-puppy?

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:06 am

You never saw the ‘DON’T DRINK THAT SHIT’ PSA when you were a kid? It was with creepy puppets, which is why I’m sure you didn’t watch it and almost died. Sue them bitches for that.

Jaclyn July 29, 2011 at 9:19 am

Sorry about that time I let my brother cut off 6 inches of my hair in a closet, then lied about it and told you he did it when I was sleeping. I guess I should probably apologize to him for that one too, since you slapped the shit out of him for it.
Jaclyn recently posted..This is the kind of shit I come up with when I don’t have anything funny to say

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:06 am

That’s some sneaky shit right there.

Jaclyn July 29, 2011 at 9:29 am

Oh..how about the fact that I used to have a party every single weekend when you went to visit your boyfriend during my late teenage years? It isn’t even that you didn’t know about it, it was the shit we did. Like the time my brother made a potato gun out of a piece of PVC pipe and a can of hairspray and shot old fruit at the walls of our kitchen for half a day. Or when he would make rings of fire on the floor with the same hairspray. Or that time my friend got so drunk he blacked out and peed on your Yankee memorabilia. Ditto for the next weekend when he blacked out and peed on my little sister.
Jaclyn recently posted..This is the kind of shit I come up with when I don’t have anything funny to say

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:07 am

How did your mom NOT KNOW about the seemingly endless explosions going on in your home? Is your floor titanium?

Jaclyn July 29, 2011 at 9:43 am

Oh, and this one isn’t mine, but it’s hilarious: My cousin was maybe 3 years old and she and her mom were in her grandma’s car going somewhere. My aunt has a notoriously strained relationship with her mother and it REALLY didn’t help when my cousin called out to her grandma from the back seat that day: “Grandma, what’s a douche bag?”- -“where did you learn that word?” was all she responded with. To which my cousin obviously replied “because that’s what mommy said you are”. Rumor has it she kicked them out of the car and made them walk.

Noa July 30, 2011 at 12:07 am

That really was spectacular enough to share. Mostly because your cousin must be the best ever now.

Alisen October 3, 2011 at 7:32 pm

Sorry about the years of tormenting our family dog but in all fairness you were the one who told me to treat him like my brother. I’m also sorry I picked a masochist for a family pet and he liked it. I’m not sorry it made him as much of an asshole as me.

I’m also sorry I didn’t thoroughly clean the shoe prints off the ceiling when I “didn’t” have that keg party.

I’m sorry for all of 1998 and 1999.

Noa October 5, 2011 at 6:26 pm

I’m now painfully curious about 1998 and 1999.

Andrea October 16, 2011 at 10:55 am

OMG. dying here. My brother just turned 45, so in celebration i scanned a shit ton of photos from the family album to let our cumulative thousand or so-ish facebook friends enjoy the multi angled plaid jumpers and pants my mom used to dress us in. My favorite i still remember (and of which i have photographic proof), is my brother in high waisted jeans, a green polo shirt, and a long skinny purple tie with about 7 B-52 bombers going down it. wish i could post that in the comments section! thanks for upheaving some great memories (not that your posting was on childhood fashion, that’s just what got stirred up in my head by it).

Noa October 19, 2011 at 9:31 pm

I’m going to need to see that photo. Soon.

Stephanie December 24, 2011 at 10:15 am

First, Mom, I’m sorry I convinced my sister to turn all the sand in the sandbox into a giant volcano just to keep her occupied all afternoon. I’m also sorry that when my sister was 13 I locked her outside the house in her pajamas and no bra so that she had to get the mail from our mailman. I’m also sorry I convinced my sister that I told our minister that she kept track of her poops on a calendar. Hmm, maybe I should be apologizing to my sister…

Second, I hope one day my daughter will confess this:
“Mom, I’m so sorry I colored all over my walls with the markers you didn’t know were in the birthday party gift bags (though my brother helped, too). I know just painting my room was not enough for you. You needed a couple layers of primer paint, also, to make it really fun. I’m sorry I got impatient waiting for you to schedule my hair appointment and I’m sorry I cut six inches off my hair, requiring a bob haircut all winter. And I’m very, very sorry for taking that full jar of peanut butter and decorating my brother’s room with it and I’m sorry you had to spend hours cleaning it when you were sick. Thank you for letting me live to see Christmas that year.”

Noa December 26, 2011 at 5:29 pm

Stephanie, I’m beginning to suspect you are actually MY sister in disguise. The poop calendar thing though–fucking classic. Can’t wait to use that one.

Stephanie December 30, 2011 at 8:06 am

I was truly inspired on that one. Maybe one day I will use my powers for good….Nah! What fun would that be?!

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