I realize I may come across as a wee bit critical at times. Okay, most of the time. I could take personal responsibility, go into therapy, spend hundreds of thousands of dollars and maybe achieve real and lasting change. But what are the odds of that happening? Especially, when it's so easy, and so gosh darn American, to blame someone else for my evil ways. Sooooo...
There's a long list I could draw from, but here's a few things my older sister talked me into when I was a very young, gullible kid. These are the ones I can mention without activating the tic:
- She had me hold an orange segment on my closed eye for five minutes so I could be in her (non-existent) club.*
- She'd let me stay up with her to watch The Twilight Zone and other scary shows when she babysat and then imitate the freaky characters to scare the hell out of me at bed-time.
- She tossed a cast iron bank down a flight of stairs to me and told me to catch it. (Yeah, stitches. And speaking of stairs...)
- She convinced me to roll down the stairs "like in the circus!"**
* She claimed her club was called the Charter Club. Then when we'd be in the car and see a bus with the word "Charter" on it, she'd claim it was full of club members. Clever, no?
* * I know, I know. No stairs in your average circus. But you don't know. She can be very convincing.
[P.S. on the Wegman's Experiment: Thanks to all those folks who played our game! We have not forgotten about you. Sean and I are burning the midnight oil, collating and tabulating the results. (Okay, pretty much Sean is. Thanks, Sean!) We'll then consult with Anderson Cooper to tell us what it means, earnestly and compassionately, as only Anderson Cooper can. Hopefully, we'll have the results to you some time next week. Or a splitting headache. Or both.]
