Ten Minutes

A Childhood Memory with a Splash of Bedazzling

When I was 10 and my brother was 13 we thought we were old enough to be left home alone after school until our mom got home from work. Based on previous “ridiculous behavior” (or so she “claims”) she wouldn’t allow it until one crisp, beautiful day when we broke her down just enough to give us a chance to prove ourselves. And prove we did.

She agreed to give us ten minutes alone where she drove to the gas station. She was very specific on the rules. 1. Don’t leave the house. 2. Don’t invite the neighbor kids over and 3. Don’t kill each other. Simple enough, right?

We anxiously watched her back out of the driveway and past the stop sign. Immediately my brother went out the front door to climb the biggest tree in the yard (we were also not supposed to do that but she didn’t specify THIS time). I knew I was on limited time and there was a really cute 14 year old neighbor boy* (scandalous, I know!) who I promptly invited over and proceeded to chase around the house like a …well, a ten year old girl. In his mad dash to escape my love bubble, he closed our front glass door and I went flying right through it. I also flew over the porch steps and landed in a bloody mess in the front yard. It startled my brother so much that he fell smack out of the tree only to land beside me and in the glass.

About 3 seconds later I heard our car coming and looked over at my brother, completely terrified. (I don’t remember what was said, but the only bad word I knew at the time was “fart” so I’m sure that was part of it.) Watching her pull into the driveway was like watching a slow motion horror film. A horror film where kids mouth the words “ohhhhhhhh fart….”

Mitch and I were in the front yard, laying in a bloody mess, twitching with shattered glass stuck in us and all I could think is “I hope they play Hanson at my funeral.” She got out of the car with an indescribable look on her face, both hands on her hips, and stared at us for a split second before she screeched “REALLY?! TEN MINUTES?!”

We both ended up in the emergency room and once we were allowed to speak again, we reminded her of the bright side, which was the fact that we didn’t actually kill each other. We still got full punishment.

The good news is that I have a really cool scar from it and Matt Hardinburgh (aka neighborboy*) if you’re reading this, it was t o t a l l y worth it.

Update:

It’s been almost 2 decades since this happened and Mitch and/or I generally stay in trouble with our mom. Not so much for this incident, but you can imagine. Some may not agree on the details of this memory but it’s my story after all, so get off it.

Mom, don't be mad. Just look how cute we are AND I'm wearing that mustache ring you got me.

 

P.S. Check out Mitch's art page on instagram @mitchsterroboto.