I went to high school with a kid who would only drink out of a baby bottle. He brought a large baby bottle to school every day. At first, we thought that he was using it to sneak alcohol or something, but he wasn’t. He would bring it filled with chocolate milk and then fill it up with Coca-Cola and Sprite during lunch. He’d buy a can of each and mix them together. Like I said, it was a large bottle.
I didn’t know the kid that well and I didn’t have any classes with him so I never really talked to him that much. I knew his name. His name was Kevin. Sometimes I’d see him at parties on the weekends. He still had his baby bottle. He would fill it with beer and rum.
He dated my sister’s friend, Emily, for a little while. I had known Emily for a long time. She had been a friend of my sister’s since they were five or six. They were really good friends. She spent a lot of time at our house for sleepovers and stuff. Sometimes she would pee the bed, but I never made fun of her for it. I think most older brothers would have loved the opportunity to make fun of their sister’s friend for peeing the bed and I think she really appreciated that I never mentioned it even though I definitely knew about it because after the sixth or seventh time, my parents started paying me to clean everything up instead of having to do it themselves.
I asked Emily why Kevin only ever drank out of a baby bottle and she said that she didn’t know. They had only been dating for a very short time at that point and she didn’t want to bring it up and offend him or anything. I asked her to tell me if she ever found out. They broke up right after that and I kind of forgot about it because Kevin stopped going to school. I don’t know if he transferred or dropped out, but I never saw him at lunch or any parties after that.
I hadn’t thought about him in a long time, but Emily happened to mention him while she was over at our house recently and I immediately remembered the baby bottle thing.
“Did you ever find out why he drank out of that bottle?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, he told me why,” Emily said. “He used it because he heard that babies that drink out of bottles for too long or drink sweet drinks out of them get really bad teeth problems. He wanted all of his teeth to go bad so that they would fall out and he would be able to fit a softball in his mouth. He said that he wanted to have the world record for being the first person to be able to put a whole softball in his mouth and he wouldn’t be able to do that with all of those teeth in the way.”
idk if I’ve posted about this before but by far the strangest things that’s happened to me in retail was the time someone’s total came out to my birth-year and I said “hey! that’s the year I was born!” and then the next customer’s total came out to like $12.57 and just bc I’m a weirdo I said “hey! that’s the year I was born!” and without missing a fucking beat this like, 70+ year old man said
“Ah! Another like me! We’re few and far between these days, aren’t we?”
And I was like oh man this guy’s sense of humor really aligns with mine! And I laughed and made some other joke about being immortal and thought that was the end of it,
but this man.
He stood by the register for five more minutes. Maybe more. Which let me tell you is an EXCRUTIATING amount of time for something like this to happen.
And he just kept upping the ante!! He starting talking about some REALLY specific details regarding day-to-day life in the 1300s to the point I started getting worried that I’d misled a genuinely immortal being to believe I am also immortal.
He eventually politely left when I got too busy with other customers to awkwardly respond.
so when i was 7 or 8 i’d “write letters to hermione granger” and set them out on the piano in the living room every night with my stuffed toy owl and every morning i’d have a letter from hermione back, sitting at the foot of my bed, and hermione and i corresponded like that for months and i’d just like to thank my mom for writing out a “letter from hermione” for me every single night
That is the cutest thing I’ve ever read oh my god
so when i was about the same age i got really into both ciphers and james madison (idk don’t ask) so i just randomly started writing these letters like i was james madison writing to my own spy ring, using all kinds of ciphers. constantly writing that WE MUST SWITCH CIPHERS THE BRITISH ARE ON TO US. and it wasn’t every night because the ciphers kept getting more complex, but it was about one every week for six months and my mother always responded. and she always found the letters, because i took to hiding them in increasingly more obscure locations because spies, obviously.
i didn’t realize how much work this was until i snuck down late one night for a cookie. and saw my mother bent over my giant book of ciphers and muttering to the dog “is this another code or can she not spell?” (i could not and still can not spell) and i was a bit angry at first but i kept watching and she KEPT AT IT. checking everything in that book against my letter and i never felt so loved. my mom with a full time job sitting up to figure out my silly letters said just because i enjoyed the game.
i got her this bio of james madison a few years ago for xmas with a simple number substitution cipher on the inside saying “In thanks for your dedicated years of service, your daughter and occasional President.” She still has it pride of place on her desk next to the obligatory kid pics
so yeah cute mom story for the day.
These are some of the best secret mom stories I’ve ever read, omg.
my grandpa used to water the plants every week and there was a lil frog that would come out and croak until my grandpa sprinkled some water on him and he loved that frog so much
when i was in like third grade i went to this science camp and one night at campfire they told us a story about a ufo crashing into a lake nearby and then later in the middle of the night they woke us all up and told us the aliens were back and this time they’d laid eggs in the woods !! it was our duty to arm ourselves and go destroy the eggs, so we armored up in tinfoil and shaving cream ( ????? ) and marched into the woods ready to save the planet. the ‘eggs’ were whole watermelons hidden around the camp and we had to smash them open on trees and rocks and eat the alien fetus/watermelon goo as fast as possible. i cannot emphasis enough the raw joy of digging into a watermelon with your bare hands and stuffing it into your face in the middle of the night in the woods, barely taking time to chew so that you can save the planet from hostile aliens, and i think i became the person i am because of that night.
so one time I was stuck walking about 19 miles at 12 AM above the arctic circle with an Austrian dude who Did Not Like Me and it was horrible until about two hours in I started singing the Krusty Krab Pizza song from the pizza delivery episode and he started talking about the German Spongebob dub and it really brought us together Spongebob transcends borders and language.
he said that overall the german dub is superior but it’s downfall is that Mr. Krabs doesn’t have a sailor accent.
what were you doing walking above the arctic circle in the middle of the night with an Austrian for 19 miles
@vampireapologist, no seriously, SpongeBob transcending language is the most explainable part of your story. What the HELL were you doing walking 19 miles in the arctic circle with an unfriendly Austrian?!
This is a very Very long story that begins with King Lear and ends with trench foot.
Okay, by request, here it is, as abridged as possible:
I was living on a farm at the tippy-top of Norway a few years ago.
The shower drain had some clogging issues, and ANY time ANYONE showered, it would sort of flood the bathroom. No biggy, we just used a big squeegy-on-a-stick to push it into a drain in the floor.
I know this seems off-topic, but the thing is I cannot remember why this guy and I didn’t get along. We had a lot of similar interests and were both decently polite people, so looking at it on paper we should’ve been at least casual friends. But we Could Not Stand each other, and now all I really remember clearly is that SOMEHOW any time this guy showered, the floor didn’t flood for him. And I’m telling you it flooded for EVERYONE else.
Idk if he had some sort of magical powers?? He was like 6′4″ with hair to his mid-back and beautiful Viking tattoos he did himself so honestly he Might have had command over running water in small doses. Idk we’ll never know.
Anyway the problem was he always showered Right After Me, so to him it seemed like I alone was bringing this watery plight upon our home. So one morning he finally lost is patience totally, and we started shouting at each other.
I cannot believe this dude got me yelling, tbh. In front of everyone!! At breakfast!!
Anyway. That’s our dramatic backstory.
So I found out the play King Lear was coming to town, and King Lear was basically the only Shakespearean I’d never seen or read; I didn’t know much Norwegian yet and was curious how much of the plot I could pick up just from acting cues. I thought it’d be a neat experiment and bought a ticket. The dude (I’ll call him Rocket for various reasons) wanted to come too, and I thought “hell, we can get along on a 40 minute bus ride, and then we don’t have to talk during the play. It’ll be fine.”
And it was. We had fun on the way there, and the only complication was SUPPOSED TO BE that the last bus to the farm left before the play ended, so we were gonna need to sleep at a bus stop on the outskirts of town and wait for the first one in the morning. Again, No Big. A lot of backpackers came through the area, and nobody would mind us as long as we were polite.
So, the play ends (unrelated, but during the first act–and this was King Lear–the cast broke into a FULL performance of “What’s New Pussycat” and I have NO IDEA WHY. I asked Rocket since he speaks Norwegian, and he said not even he knew?? This mystery will haunt me until the day I die.)
We get outside, ready to hit the bus stop and get to sleep.
I hugged this butt statue outside th theatre which is also unrelated but it was good.
Now, mind you it is damn near October, above the Arctic Circle, after midnight. It’s cold, and it’s getting colder. So once we’re outside, I start layering up both under and over my Fancy Theatre Dress. All the way down to a pair of wool thermal long underwear.
This is a photo of me from that night (without my mittens on, which I also needed).
So as I stand there, pulling on my winter camping pajamas and changing into wool socks, Rocket puts on. A Leather Jacket.
I’m dutifully horrified. “Is that all you have?”
“Yeah” he shrugs.
So we make it to the bus stop about 30 minutes on-foot outta town and hunker down to sleep. And then Rocket wakes me up a little while later because SURPRISE!!!! HE’S FUCKING FREEZING!!!!!!
In fact, even I’m a little cold, so I know this dude must be absolutely miserable. I’m looking at him, and I know what we have to do. But I don’t wanna. Be we gotta.
“Okay…Let’s walk home.”
Now at the TIME I’m being really optimistic. Naively optimistic. STUPIDLY FUCKING OPTIMISTIC. “How far could it be?” 19 miles is the answer. But I’ve never walked 19 miles after working in a field all day and then staying up past midnight. I have no idea that we’re both fucked.
And I’m being optimistic.
SO, with “What’s New Pussycat” stuck in our heads, we head for home.
BAD!!!!!!
It’s FREEZING. I offer him the extra scarf (and I think gloves?) that I keep in my bag, which made life a little better for him. And I’m somehow being more sympathetic than irritated that All He Packed Is A Leather Jacket. What do i know about the guy? Maybe he doesn’t have experience with weather like this and is decently embarrassed? I’m exhausted and worried about him and that’s about all the room for emotions I have at this point.
I have been trying and failing to hitch hike for about an hour now. Failing, because nobody fucking lives out here and drives by in the middle of the night. AND the two people who did pass us saw an exhausted girl shrouded in fifteen layers of winter-wear ambiguity, standing next to Thor’s human incarnation.
We weren’t getting a lift.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, the next seven+ hours are hellish. Walking next to the ocean is As Close as possible on this mortal realm to walking in Limbo The ONLY thing we have to mark our progress is a distant glacier on a mountain. And we never seem to be any nearer or further to or from it.
In our exhaustion, we keep stopping at bus stops to take naps until it gets too cold and we start walking again.
When we run out of bus stops, we sleep for about 20 minutes on a pile of gravel in an open construction yard, because it’s warmer than the ground.
At one stop, Rocket finds out he has developed trench foot. Wow!!! I tell him! This is so random but I can only ever find decently warm wool socks in men’s sizes, and I have an extra pair that will fit him! Dry feet, problem solved!
He says no thank you.
Life is miserable, but we’re talking so we don’t cry I guess.
I don’t remember anything else we discussed that night but Spongebob when i started singing the Krusty Krab Pizza song since it fit the situation. Also we talked about the German Spongebob dub and how he likes it better except for Mr. Krabs’s voice.
SO. Against all odds, we make it 17 miles, and the sun’s coming up. Some cars start coming by every 15-20 minutes, and I start sticking out my thumb again, hoping it’s a universal signal.
FINALLY this fisherman on the way home from a night of work and ACTUALLY GOING our direction instead of into town pulls over and lets us in. I don’t even know at first if he speaks English, but I start recounting the night of our Struggles, and he nods along politely since I’m clearly too far fucking gone to be grateful for the ride and just Shut Up.
He actually knows where our farm is and drops us off at about 7:30, and I swear I almost don’t make it to my bed.
Anyway, I WAKE UP AT 2 PM AND FIND OUT ROCKET HAS TOLD EVERYONE WE WERE BOTH UNDERPREPARED AND COLDand I have A THING OR TWO to say about that.
As for him, with his trench foot he can’t work for two days, and I would feel worse if he hadn’t refused the extra socks for unknown reasons.
Still, we definitely bonded that night, and for the rest of our time together in the house we get along pretty well, drinking beers and making Spongebob jokes with a mutual acknowledgement of what we went through and respect for each other.
So there ya go. Spongebob gave us the will to Go On.
Or something.
OKAY SOME PEOPLE HAVE MADE SORT OF MEAN COMMENTS THAT MAKE ME FEEL “EEEHHHH” SO!
Rocket and I for whatever reason REALLY got on each other’s nerves most of the time, and this was THE BIG HAPPENING. I think he was a pretty irritable person, and for whatever reason I rubbed him the wrong way.
HOWEVER, FUNDAMENTALLY he was a good dude who worked hard in the fields with us and told funny jokes and I was even really glad to have him with me to camp at a bus stop because I felt much safer than I would have alone and as much as we annoyed each other I did trust him.
So Rocket was ultimately a Good Person with whom I often didn’t get along.
Which isn’t some terrible sin.
So please don’t say any nasty mean stuff about him that will make me regret telling this funny story. Thank you!!
people keep tagging this as “I hope this is true”
Like I included pictures of me there
do you think I went to the far north of Norway to work on a potato farm but once I got there I thought “hm this isn’t exciting ENOUGh I better make up a lie to spice it up”
Did I ever tell you guys about when I went to the principal’s office in 5th grade?
Do tell
So I’m a shitty storyteller but bear with me.
So for some background. Basically my school had a wall next to one of the doors, and there was a fence next to it, to, you know, keep the kids from running out into the street. There was also a drainage gutter that went under the fence that started below the short, but really steep, hill up to the play equipment. Anyway. Kids played “wall ball” against the wall I mentioned earlier with playground balls. I walked around in the little tree area near there, talking to my imaginary friends (I kept those until 7th grade). I was not a very good student behavior wise. I also didn’t like the kids who were playing that day.
So one day the ball came over to me. Usually I would’ve just given it back, I guess I was feeling stubborn that day or something, but instead of giving it back I held on to it. I went over to the area where there was a hole for the drainage thing and dropped the ball over the fence. I wanted to just push the ball up behind the fence, because that was fun and it would’ve harmed literally no one. Anyway, M (piece of ass #1) decided to run around the fence to go get it. That was against the rules.
I got really mad and started trying to get the ball back. Apparently I scratched a kid. When the whistle blew to go back inside, I walked and lined up, obviously. When I walked by the kid (S) who was telling the teacher, I pushed her against the wall. I went into the classroom and went into the little separate library room the class had to calm down. But before I did that I had heard the main teacher (Ms V) telling the assistant/student teacher (Ms S) that I needed to go to the principal’s office. I didn’t want to go to the principal’s office, obviously, so I tried to weasel my way out. Usually I could by crying. Didn’t work that time.
Anyway I ended up having to write apology letters to the kids and eat lunch with them. That was probably awkward for all of us.
My parents got their nipples pierced together (like they didn’t attach themselves to each other via nipples they both got their nipples done) as a couple thing idk and dad would attach those phone charms that light up with you get a text to them at parties. Well once he forgot to take them off and went to work and had to arrest someone for drink driving and the charms went off so they both had to act like the big scary police officers nipples weren’t flashing
ifesbob 