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Standard set of rugrat related incidents involving crayons, crushed sweets, liquids, wallpaper, floors and the inside of cars. Also each other, both being hospitalised by the other one. Not on purpose, apparently.
But the one that sticks with me is when we were staying over at my Brothers and his wife house with our 2 young kids. They didn't have any kids at that time, and their house was pristine and very tidy. Kids were put into the spare room which also contained their favourite/treasured photos all carefully collated and filed. Printed on extremely expensive paper. Total of around 30.
Not one survived contact with our 2. Came in to find the last being torn to shreds by child#1. Child#2 was by now almost buried in ripped up paper shards.
My bro - to be fair - was very good about it. He was more concerned about the health of our kids. Because, Yes, Child#2 had in fact eaten quite a lot of the evidence.
Oh, I also forgot about the time we left a bottle of (unopened) Calpol on the changing mat of one of the kids rooms.
SO clearly he managed to rip the top off.
Cue hospital trip while they ascertained if he had drunk it or not (he had not) and interview with social services about leaving medicines out.
(I guess that one is more crappy parenting than weird kids though)
I was browsing our local DIY store with my pre school children when a staff member tapped me on my shoulder and informed me my daughter was taking a dump in one of the display toilets. Happens quite often, apparently.
I was still chuckling reading the OPs post (sorry OP!) but this one was a proper tea-strained-through-the-nose-onto-the-keyboard experience 🙂
Not exactly destructive, but I had just received my order at a streetside bar in Spain when my daughter, then aged about 2, announced she needed to do a wee. I didn't want to lose the table, nor head off to the toilet leaving my drink and her ice cream on the table, so decided I could just hide between two parked cars next to the table and she could do a quick wee there. Of course it wasn't a wee she needed...
Family holiday driving to Dover and late for a ferry. 40 miles away daughter chunders massively but its OK we have developed a very efficient tupperware system. 20 miles out from Dover however, she declares she needs a poo. This really tested our system. Arriving at Dover with tubs of chunder and shit emphasises that parenthood affords little dignity. Her poor brother had to witness it all and looked shocked.
Ah this thread is perfect - 2 both involving cars and the same child.
1. My first "proper" car, which was a 2nd hand bimmer, I was washing it not long after i bought it, and my son who was about 2-3 at the time and already fitting the mold of "i will destroy your life" (my 5 year old daughter in comparison was/is brilliant), wanted to help. I said ok in moment.. - my moment was clearly too long as he had started already - and i intilly thought oh mum had given him a sponge.... NO, he decided a big stone was sufficient and copied my actions. i lost the plot big time at everyone, and had to calm down and apologise.. never did fix the paintwork as i had no money left.
2. After bimmer no1, i'd moved up in jobs and had a bit more money and as a family travelling more, so splashed out on a new 5series Touring - it was only 12 months old, previosouly owned by a judge top spec and a steal, (though still a huge purchase for me). Had for all of 1 week, took family out, my missus decided that son could eat loads of fruit and juice just before the journey home -i said no but was over-ruled as usual. Cue 5tonnes of puke all over the seats and floor - it stank it was also summer and my first clean did nothing to remove the smell - i ended up stripping the back of the car and scrubbing everything with baking powder..
only 12 months old, previosouly owned by a judge top spec and a steal,
And how did His Honour react to the car theft?
“ Bosses kids decided to clean his new car with snow, picked up from the gravel drive, suffice to say it didn’t buff out.”
Friend of mine washed his dads car when he was a young teen and dropped the sponge on the ground a couple of times while soaping it up and rinsing. This resulted in lots of tiny, but obvious - as it was a new car - scratches all over the paintwork as grit got embedded in the sponge.
The car had to be resprayed by the manufacturers. Which was very very very very expensive.
Why so costly? It was a Ferrari 348. 😳
My friends dad had just bought a new car, can’t recall what it was but it was expensive. Said friend had a motorbike he called the Joe 90, again I can’t recall what it was. He was doing donuts on the driveway when he slipped and lost control of the bike.
The bike managed to ride up the car bonnet by itself and stick there. Basically humping the front of the car, trashing the bonnet, windshield and the roof. It was spectacular and like the bike was alive.
My then 2 year old covered her body, head, hair and pyjamas in sudocrem. You had to laugh, she certainly found it hilarious.
My brother and I were getting the rarest of things, a lift to school from our Dad, and my brother left his door more than ajar, unbeknown to my Dad who started to reverse up the drive, collecting the neighbours wall and fence and pushing the passenger door in-line with the drivers door. We were late for school. Car was a new red D reg Montego.
I once took the kerplunk sticks and a Knitting needle and tried to make a spiky crown for my baby brothers head - I got some to go in. My mum used to bring this up often and not always in a humorous way, understandable really.
We found out my sister had a severe allergic reaction to wasp stings after I launched a brick at a wasp bike.
More car + puke but spectacular execution. We took the two kids, then 4 and 6, out for the first ever drive in a brand new Skoda Octavia, to see the new house we were moving to no less. My daughter, 4, managed to vomit but like some sort of gannet contortionist, managed to project her stream of filth, laser-like, at the seat belt entry point. Therefore most of the gunk went straight through the seat into the bodywork. I stripped the seat off as best I could (it still doesn't fit back perfectly) but needless to say, it stank for a few years.
And just as that was wearing off our male cat pissed on the seat on the way to the vet.
For sale, Skoda Octavia 2014 model, one careful owner...
From my side, aged two and with my dad away at work (pilot, so couldn't pop home) I slammed the front door on my nightie-clad mother as she went to fetch the milk. Classic.
She then got the neighbour to lend her a ladder... and a hammer. Climbing over the neighbour's fence, he probably copping an eyeful, her plan was to break a window on the full length glass rear door. But I was watching and I had my Tip-Tap Hammer Set and I wasn't afraid to use it. By the time she got to me I had done a couple of full length windows in the conservatory and the back of the house looked like it'd been hit by a bomb. As recounted by my mother obviously, my memories of 1982 being a little thin.
My then 2 year old cat covered her body, head, hair and pyjamas in sudocrem. You had to laugh, she certainly found it hilarious.
Rode my bike down the side of my dad's car. Putting a lovely go faster stripe in the paint work. Which airfix enamal paint spectacularly failed to match. Much to my and my fathers annoyance
Son who is 2 just tried to draw on my car door today with some slate chippings from the driveway. Result is some quite big scratches. 3 days ago he grabbed the front grill of the car and snapped one of the plastic fins, that one I was more annoyed about as replacing the grill is the only way to fix that.
I'm always proud of my own endeavor of scratching some words into the side of my Dad's new company car with a rock. An absolute rollicking would likely have been in order, had I not chosen the words "I love you Dad." Still makes my Mum laugh 30 odd years later as he just didn't know how he could react to it.
I used to like throwing darts at stuff. Bottles of coke was a favourite. "WHy is this leaking?" "Don't know, weird isn't it". "It happened again!" "They must be cheaping out on the bottles. Throwing them "between" my brother's feet was another, somehow the "between" didn't always work out so he ended up with a dart stuck in him.
I forgot all this and years later unscrewed the flights off a dart and threw them at his head, he went absolutely apeshit, I had no idea why then everyone reminded me of all the other times I'd thrown darts at him and I was like, oh yeah, that's fair enough really.
The six year old girl decided (for reasons still not clear) to swing open the door of our one month old Tesla Model 3 as her nine year old brother road past on a BMX. He went flying and narrowly missed smacking his head on a BT box.
It did leave a lovely imprint of a handlebar end and stunt peg in the door.
🤦🏻♂️
Right things have escalated.
Yesterday we never got round to clearing up the mess. It was discussed again this morning, before I headed out with kids for swimming and shopping.
Before I went out I put a wash on. All my commuting bike stuff and a few of wife's sports things, kid's fleeces.
She went and tumble dried it. Which has just come to light.
I'm very lucky to have this opportunity to practice mindfulness. Although we do need a new patio.
😂😂😂😂
Definite 'best thread' contender. Laughed all the way through it.
Yesterday we never got round to clearing up the mess.
What?
It was discussed again this morning,
And the outcome wasn’t cleaning the shit out of the drier ASAP?
She went and tumble dried it. Which has just come to light.
I have more questions. How? And how?
I think we were in denial that someone had shat in the tumble drier. Close door, leave utility room and pretend things are fine.
The next day makes no sense to me either. I think in between remembering to clean it there was a distraction, then washing machine beeped which triggered an automated chuck it in the tumble dryer.
Having had a man in to replace the belt on our drier this week, I was amazed at how many unscrewy bits there were to get to the pulley things and how much space was in there that would trap centrifuged poo once squeezed out of the drum holes.
Money in the car CD player.
Long before I was around my Mum and her siblings used to have a pet Tortoise, that would hibernate in a cardboard box in the garage every winter.
Her Dad, my much missed Grandad, Queen Scout and master of rafts, explosions, homemade rockets and deadly go karts bought Mums younger Brother a .22 rifle, but it was secret, so he had to keep it in the garage. Where he could lie on the floor. And hang paper targets against that safe background of a pile of cardboard boxes...
Come Spring, out emerged a shell with a few too many holes in it filled with some sort of biological liquid goo... Poor thing.
I remember as a teenager being at my Dad's place after school before he got home, playing Public Enemy on my his big stereo. Turned it up nice and loud (+Bass) before heading downstairs to the toilet.
Awesome, I can still hear it really well down here. Then a big thud and silence.
Went upstairs to find the speaker had migrated from the 6ft high wall mount... down to the drinks cabinet. It took some explaining.
Insurance agent, “So how did your television’s screen get smashed Sir?”
bensales, “A Fireman Sam, aged 3, was sword fighting with the cat using a small statue ornament.”
Insurance agent, “I see, well that’s covered, would you like a cheque or bank transfer?”
John Lewis home insurance isn’t all bad.
My youngest daughter went after some hidden chocolate in the kitchen cupboard. Pulled herself up on the counter, and down came a 4 door wall mounted kitchen unit, full of glasses mugs and crockery. One almighty smash. Incredibly, she was completely unscathed.
At the age of 5 I decided my 3 year old brother looked a bit dirty and needed a good clean.
Covered him in Mr Sheen and was just about to start dusting when my mum walked in….
My eldest seems to be somewhat of a specialist at self jeopardy and low level destruction.
When he was two he managed to lock his mum in the garden of our linked semi while she pegged out the washing. All attempts to coax him to turn the key were met by him putting some coins in his mouth and wandering off into the house. The resulting panicked 999 call resulted in our neighbours fence being destroyed by the policeman climbing over the garage to get to the patio doors. In the meantime his colleague managed to, via the letterbox, convince my son to turn the keys in the front door saving the day.
At the start of the pandemic the same son, now eight, become so ill and unresponsive we called an ambulance. While the paramedics were sorting out which hospital would take him he launched black vomit all over our week old pale grey carpet and one of the poor chaps. To add insult to injury his colleague scooped some up, put it under my nose and said "I've got a mask on, does that smell like blood to you?" Laddo later tested positive for gastro-enteritis and coco pops.
He has also ruined at least two of my shirts with falls that have required stiches.
He has recently started mountain biking, so it's only a matter of time...
Friends son undid handbrake on car which rolled down section into the sea. Car was 1 day old.
As a kid (about 11) my brother and I were playing a game of chicken in the dad’s barn which involved sitting on top of all the bales of straw and starting a small fire with matches. The goal of the game was to see how was bravest (dumbest?) by waiting the longest before stamping it out.
25 years later I recounted the ‘witty anecdote’ which started “Dad, you remember when the barn burnt down in the summer of 1990?…” suffice to say he didn’t see the funny side and he didn’t speak to me for a few weeks.
The kids recently tried to do the washing for us but used a purple bath bomb instead of Ariel (they’re 3). Luckily it was only my green ambulance uniform but took a few washes to make wash it all out.
Well, if we’re now talking other offspring than our own.. my little brother once set fire to our house. Mum saw smoke coming out of his bedroom window… “where is he?!”, I go round the side of the house where he’s trying to light the garden fence with a zippo lighter. Turned out he was lighting random stuff and a piece of rope wouldn’t go out, so he threw it under his bed and ran outside to find something else to burn. Made the local paper n everything.
Apparently, the insurance payout got my parents out of some financial difficulties, so he never really got in trouble. Pah.
As a young boy (maybe 6) I was given a fishing rod for my birthday. One Saturday I persuaded my mother to take me to the tackle shop to get some bait. Live maggots were the recommended bait du jour. On the way home (despite being told not to open them) I opened the carton spilled the whole lot down the back of the seat....
You can imagine the outcome a few days later... flies, hundreds and hundreds of them....
In the 70s when large dried flower arrangements were all the rage, I was sat on a chair in the front room casually playing with my stepdad's lighter.
The arrangement on the window sill behind me went up like a spectacular flaming mushroom cloud. I still remember mum and her mate's faces who were chatting on the drive.
Before I was school age my Mum left me for the day with a friend who had a daughter my age.
At some point we were set up with paint, brushes and paper whilst the Mum of the house went about cleaning the house.
Obviously, painting on paper gets a bit boring after a while ... and as we all know pre-schoolers manage to mix the paints together. Well, Naomi and I observed at some point that the mix of paint resembled the colour of the Incredible Hulk so we thought it would be fun to paint ourselves to look like the Hulk.
Once we were transformed and had named ourselves Mr and Mrs Incredible Hulk we headed upstairs to show off our new look to Naomi's mum. Obviously, when you're that age you need to put one hand on the freshly painted white wall as you walk up the stairs, don't you?
Never could understand why she was so upset with us. Some people just don't appreciate artistic talent.
One that springs to mind, driving on the motorway heading on holiday somewhere when number 1 son declares he needs a wee and can't hold it (probably 5 at the time), miles to the next junction or services so my wife decides she'll swivel round and hold a coke bottle for him to wee in. I did try to warn her that I'd struggle to aim that well let alone a 5 year old boy, however she was convinced that 'it' was only little and it would be fine. Cue the Trevi fountain in the back of the car all over my wife and his very disgruntled sister sitting next to him!
Last night whilst boy1 (10 yrs) was taking a dump boy2 (8 yrs) decided to flick a towel at him.
Despite the stationary target the county tennis champ missed, but did connect with the nice shaving mirror, which then shattered in the sink. In the process knocking a hole through said sink.
We have just accepted an offer on our house.
Previously boy1 (then 6yrs) helped me fix my carbon mountain bike by hitting the top tube with a hammer. I know he was helping me fix it because he told me.
Widening the search my mate's brother took his car to the garage because the vents in the dashboard didn't work. The garage gave him 2 carrier bags full of pens that my mate's nephew had inserted.
but did connect with the nice shaving mirror, which then shattered in the sink. In the process knocking a hole through said sink.
Our daughter did the same by playing with the blind that knocked the mirror into the sink and broke the sink. Almost worse though was that the mirror didn't break; we replaced the sink, put the mirror back, then two days later the wind blew the blind and knocked the mirror into the sink again. Luckily the sink didn't break this time (phew!) but we did get rid of the mirror.
Youthful destructiveness on the part of the daughter, idiocy on the part of the parents 🙂
In the mid eighties, my little sister (about, maybe 8 or 9 years old) decided she didn't want her cheese and tuna pitta bread - and so left it under her bed, and promptly forgot about it.
Fast forward two weeks, when a large writhing ball of maggots was eventually discovered where it used to be.
To teach my little sister a lesson, my mum made her carry the lump of maggoty stuff to the bin with a small coal shovel. My sister was screaming with revulsion from the moment it was on the shovel, along the landing and half way down the stairs, when I though it would be utterly amusing to leap out at her and go "BOO". This made her jump. A lot.
After that, the maggots were all over the floor, down the stairs, and - of more pressing concern to my sister - all over her hair and down her neck. In her pockets...
I really was/am a complete b**tard.
Facebook market place. Free if collected today. Like flies to shite.
In all seriousness we cleaned it up. Resigned to the fact of we got a new one it would only happen again.