guys, it's a true story about myself, I think you will find it funny,,
There I was, 3 years old, with my toes over the edge of the curb I was standing there throwing stones across the street. I would pick up the stones inside the curb. The game was to see how close you could get the stone to the curb on the other side of the street. And 5 points if you hit the vertical part of the curb and 10 points if you hit the top of the curb. BTW, I have to add, it was my older brothers that taught me that game.
Every time I was out side playing I would take a few minutes to throw stones across the street. The boy that lived in the next house up the street was about a year older than me and he would tell me I shouldn't through stones across the street. Haa he would tell my older brothers the same. But I as my brother would, I too just wave him off and told him "aa-what do you know, you are just a sissy, you are afraid of worms". Where I was standing there was a hill at my heals and my toes were over the edge of the curb, some times I would loose my balance and would have to step in the street to stop myself from falling. I would get my stones out of the street next to curb. I would have one foot in the street and one foot on the curb as I bent over to pick up the stones. And I do remember falling into the street more than once when I was standing there. I remember this one day very, very well, I was a little farther up the street closer to the corner because there usually was more stones up there. The other boy, Bobby, and that is his real name, was out there telling me again not to throw stones across the street. well I just held a stone up high over my head and said "watch me throw this stone over the next car that come's down the road" with that a van, farther up the street turns the corner and comes down the street and when that van got down to me I let that stone fly. Haahaa haa, I remember it plan and clear>, that sound that was made when that stone hit the side of that van. The sound was loud and I was gone like a shot, I was off and running, I was about 30ft from my house, I ran in the front door of my house and as I ran in I could see my dad was home. When I was out throwing that stone I didn't know my dad was home, but when I ran in the house I sure found out that he was, he was standing there talking to my mother. As soon as I saw my dad I turned and ran into my bedroom and hid under my bed. After a couple minutes under my bed I heard it, the knocking at the front door. I heard my father walk to the door and open it, and I could hear talking. The only thing I heard clearly was that my father told the guy to come see him after the dent was fixed and that my father would pay for it. The man said "OK thank you" and left. My father walked back to talk to my mom and when he got to my bedroom door he opened it quickly and said "what have you been up-to". That was it, my father never said another word about it to me, never punished me. I sure thought my mother would spank me but she never said a word to me about it/never told me to stop throwing stones. LOL All that didn't stop me from throwing stones across the street, I just learned not to try to throw the stones over cars and trucks again.
it's true story guys, and it's my 3 brothers fault LOL
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