My Four Greatest Disappointments

I have four memories of great disappointment. They are not sad, or even important. These disappointments are ridiculous little situations that most people would not even remember.

1) I have been called a germ-a-phobe. I will agree that this is more than likely true. When I was little, I was so worried about staying at my Grandma's house. It was a little cluttered and smokey. I would not use the bathroom at her house. The problem was they lived two hours away from us. So when we went to visit, I would not go to the bathroom for a good 48 hours. When we would get home, I would want to burn my clothes. My mom told me that she had a "magic washer." I was so excited to know that my clothes and shoes would be completely sanitized. Then one day my mom spilled the beans that there was not a "magic washer." She didn't do anything at all to my clothes and shoes. I was devastated.

2) I was really into Maple Town. These were little animals figurines. I had a ton of them. One Christmas I asked for the raccoon family. Christmas morning rolled around. I was so excited when I opened the package only to be greatly disappointed when I realized I meant to ask for the squirrel family. I still think squirrels are superior to raccoons.

3) Some people may remember The California Raisins. This was a group of "raisins" that did cover songs. I loved them! My family would listen to their tape in the car. I couldn't get enough of "When a Man Loves a Woman" and "You Can't Hurry Love." One day I learned that these weren't real raisins at all. I was shocked. These were just grown up men in costumes. I was probably 10 years old when I figured this out. Why at ten I would think there were really singing raisin men is still a mystery to me.

4) I loved New Kids on The Block. My sister also loved NKOTB. She got to love them more because she was older. We went to the mall one day to get her a Joey t shirt. How dare I think that I was going to get one too! I was crushed when I left the mall empty handed because I "couldn't copy my sister." Copy my sister? Every girl in the US of A loved the New Kids. Years later, my sister gave me the shirt. It was no longer cool. I would never have worn it out in public. That didn't stop me from sleeping in it every night for a few years.

The Reason I Hate Team Sports...

There is no "I" in "team." If I am alone, I am pretty much a professional athlete. When people are watching, I get really nervous. That, and my inability to play well with others, ruined my chances for playing sports.

My first memory of hating the team approach was in first grade. I had the role of one of the pigs in The Three Little Pigs. My group was supposed to color our house on a huge piece of paper. A kid on my team, Michael, could not color to save his life. It was so irritating watching him color back and forth and up and down. I guess my intolerance for this was evident because my teacher pulled me from the group and made me the narrator. I learned a valuable lesson that day. Be a bad team player and get a promotion. I went from some little pig on a team to a big shot narrator!

I remember one time my mom picked Michael up from school to come to our house. On the way home, I pulled a scab off of his face. I did this because a) it was ready to come off and b) he was whining about it too much. He cried. When we got home, my mom sent me to my room. Later, Michael told me I could still have the cookie he brought me. My mom told him I couldn't have the cookie; I'm pretty sure even she thought he needed to grow a pair at this point.

Hairdresser vs. Hair Destroyer

My dad is a hairdresser. Growing up with a hairdresser dad is awesome. I got to do awesome stuff like spin around in salon chairs after school, get a perm when I was 7, get my hair cut anytime I wished, and have highlights in elementary school. My sister always displayed the talent necessary to follow in my dad's footsteps. I did not. This was always evident when we got new dolls. I remember us both getting Cabbage Patch dolls one Christmas. Within an hour my sister's doll looked amazing. Mine had nappy brown hair that somehow I made look like complete crap. I knew when I watched my sister take a round brush, hairspray, and a blow dryer to make the most awesome bat wings ever, hairdressing was her destiny.

I remember one time finding my Barbie dolls with new haircuts. I was furious to find my Whitney doll, who was known for her Crystal Gayle like hair, had been cut into a short stacked swing. I can't remember exactly how this played out, but I am sure I wanted it to go something like this:

Me: "Mom! Dad! Sister has ruined my Barbie doll. "

Parents: "Sister, how dare you!!! You are grounded for life!"

I am fairly confident it actually went something like this:

Me: "Mom! Dad! Sister cut my barbie doll's hair."

Parents: "Oh my gosh!! Your sister is beautiful and talented."

Barbie doll hair does not grow back. Just saying.

When my sister was twelve years old, she did hair for a wedding. This impressed everyone very much. Just for the record, I too did hair at a wedding when I was twelve. It was my Barbie's wedding. I threw one hell of a wedding bash. My family was required to watch the entire two hour long ceremony. I was enraged when my dad tried to bail out during the reception.

How Did I Not Catch On?

Having an older sibling is a guarantee for having crazy stories to tell when you are older. I have three childhood memories that puzzle me. How did I not catch on to what was really happening?

1) I always tried to fit in with my sister and her friends. During the summer, my sister would have the unwanted task of entertaining me. I always wanted to do what her and her friends were doing. One day they locked me out of the bedroom. I responded by calling my sister's friend a "b*&%H." My sister came out of her room furious. She took me and her huge boombox into the kitchen. She told me that we were going to listen to my favorite song. She just needed to rewind the tape. Then she asks me "what did you call Lori?" "I called her a b(#*H." My sister had not been rewinding the tape at all. Instead, she was recording my confession! How did I not notice that play and record were pushed down instead of rewind?

2) I have always enjoyed peanut butter and crackers. One day I ordered some from my sister, the short order cook. After I ate them, she confessed that we were out of peanut butter. So what had I just eaten? She had chewed up Ritz crackers, spit them in her hand,rolled them into a ball, and spread it onto crackers. How in the world did I not catch on?

3) One day, well before I ever wore makeup, I asked my sister to put make up on me. I set patiently while she did. I didn't pay much attention to the fact that she had not done anything other than concentrate her efforts to my upper lip. When she said she was finished, I rushed to the mirror to see how beautiful I looked; instead, I had a Pierre mustache. A sharpie, Pierre mustache. Why did I not notice that she did nothing to my eyes, lips, or cheeks?