Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Daisy Duke Ain't Got Nothing On Me

2003-09-20
Saturday morning. Eating Fruit Loops and watching "Pollyanna." God, I am such a wild woman.

I still cry during this damn movie too. I can't help it. I know that she won't die, I know that the whole town will become the "Glad Town" but I still cry when she falls.

I am such a fucking sap.

I believe it's the genes. My mother cries at movies you cannot even believe that she thinks are sad. Like Indiana Jones and Ghostbusters. I am very afraid that when I hit fifty I will need to carry a box of Kleenex around with me as not to be covered in tears and snot all the time.

Wouldn't that be attractive?

My father called to blame me for a scratch on his car. Even though I have never driven it. He likes to pretend that I am a bad driver (even though he was the one that backed into my parked car and dented it). It's family legend that I was bound to be one.

When I was four I wanted a Big Wheel. All the neighbor kids had them and I wanted one so badly. And my daddy came through. With a Daisy Duke Big Wheel. I didn't watch the Dukes of Hazard but I LOVED my Big Wheel. It had a lever on the side that I assumed was a brake. I was eager to try it out so I rode it to the top of the hill.

I pushed off and pedaled as fast as I could. My little legs pushed as hard as they could until I was flying down the hill. My grandparents were pulling into my family's driveway when I reached it and I wanted to show them my new Big Wheel. So I pulled what I thought was the brake.

It was a spin-out lever. And I did about four donuts into our front yard. I laughed so hard that I nearly fell of the seat. And rushed to do it again.

My grandfather, who favors me beyond reason, looked at my dad and told him, "She's never driving my car."

Of course he let me, actually I was the first of the grandchildren to drive his precious Cadillac even though I am the youngest. And I am a good driver.

But I can't shake my reputation. From doing donuts on a big wheel.

9:33 a.m. :: comment ::
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