One time when I was 11, my parents--probably unable to find a sitter--said that I could stay home alone on New Year's Eve with my cousin (also 11) and my sister and her brother (both 7), while the adults went out. People used to do stuff like this, I really don't think it was considered that neglectful. Anyway, it was a cold night, with a beautiful cover of thick fresh snow on the ground. The four of us played outside in the snow, enjoying the lack of supervision and having a snowball fight. And then we did that stupid thing that kids in the snow do because they don't know any better, and started throwing snowballs at passing cars. What a bunch of brats, right? We mostly missed, but eventually one missile found its target...and the car screeched to a stop in the middle of the road.
oops.
The occupants of the car jumped out, and started throwing beer bottles at us. We shrieked and raced back into the house where we hid for the rest of the night.
It was an awesome New Year's Eve.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
We used to pack rocks inside our snowballs. Army brats are hardcore!
Post a Comment