White Russians taste like death.
I wasn’t raised on conventional child rearing methods and discipline. I used to bite my nails and my mom would put Vaseline on them and tell me it was a deadly poison. So you can imagine my anguish when I forgot about the deadly poison that was coated on my delicious nails and bit them during school one day. I freaked out and ran crying home, screaming how I was going die. My mom scolded me and took me to the liquor cabinet. Then she dipped a chopstick into a bottle of Kalua and put it under my tongue. It was the antidote and I gladly accepted it for the sake of life. While the resuscitation process was taking place, my mom kept pointing to the picture on the Kalua bottle of the sleeping Mexican guy and saying, “See? He ate the poison too.”
This traumatic experience escaped my memory until one night in college. I was at a party and someone came with a bottle of Kalua. I took one look at the label and all the memories of me crying and screaming while bouncing up and down with a Kalua soaked chopstick hanging from my mouth came flooding back. I had been duped.
I called my mom the next day and asked her if she remembered this extremely messed up rearing technique and she busted out laughing and said I was so much more fun to raise than my little sister because I was so gullible. She tried the same method with my little sister and she just looked at her like, “Woman, please.” But because of this, my sister sucked her thumb so much that a permanent knot was formed on her knuckle. Not sure if it’s still there but I do know that my nails are beautiful and elegant.
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2 Responses to “White Russians taste like death.”
By Audrey on Mar 10, 2008
“But because of this, my sister sucked her thumb so much that a permanent knot was formed on her knuckle. Not sure if it’s still there but I do know that my nails are beautiful and elegant.”
You hurt me to the core…
By G-fur on Mar 12, 2008
OMG - I remember that day! I was there,I was there!
You were absolutely hysterical - and I was confused - torn between thinking - “relax, kid…er-gu-ma wouldn’t really feed you poison” and wanting to join in on the hysteria thinking, “hurry and give her the antidote before she utterly perishes!”
…
i remember telling you that i didn’t think it was really poison - but you assured me in the firmest voice, with facial and body expressions of the utmost conviction that she did - don’t challenge you. and since i looked up to u both figuratively and physically (about a foot in fact), i thought by golly she must be right…give her the antidote!