So I received such positive feedback from my last blog about some memories from my childhood that I thought I’d share some more. There are a few more stories, mainly about my Stepdad and his drunken crusades, that I’d like to share.
I find diving back into my childhood memories so cathartic. It has a positive impact on my mental health and these memories bleed into my present moments and paint everything with the brush of nostalgia.
I hope everyone is doing OK in lockdown. Hit me up if you ever wanna chat.
My Stepdad is an alcoholic. When he first met my Mum, he was drunk. He was drunk all the time. My Mum thought his drunk-state was just part of his personality. I don’t know if that’s a testament to my Stepdad’s ability to hold liquor or my Mum’s poor observational skills.
He had some funny accidents whilst pissed, and it only dawned on me recently that the reason he had these funny accidents was because he was drunk. To be honest, these stories are some of the highlights of my childhood. Although, it’s going to be hard to top the backyard-fire-mull-plants-in-the-gutter story.
One of my favourites was when my Stepdad tried to show me how to climb a tree. I was maybe like 7 or 8 years old and was attempting the conventional straight-up-the-trunk approach. My plan was to make it up to the 1st level of low-hanging branches and stroll across.
My Stepdad had other methods.
He goes: ‘Watch this Pete.’
He jumped up and grabbed the low-hanging branch in a pull-up position and then swung his legs up to the branch so he was completely horizontal. He then proceeded to swing his body around in an attempt to roll around the branch so he ended up on top, looking back down at the ground.
He tried once and got about halfway before gravity brought his body back into the starting position. He tried a second time for the same result. The third time the branch snapped clean off and he fell horizontally onto the ground.
It was awesome. He landed right on his back and neck and started making these wounded noises. He was ok, no breaks apart from the branch. I think him and Mum were having a picnic and he hobbled off to rejoin her.
Another time, another park – he was trying to show me and my Brother the art of kicking a teed footy. He was always telling us about how good he was at footy in his hey-days in school.
So he lines up the ball, tees it up and tests the wind or some shit. It was like a Saturday in the town park with families everywhere. He takes a few steps back for a run up. Charges at the ball and kicks the ground a good 30cm before the ball. He starts hopping around the park on one foot crying out in pain. It was hilarious.
Turns out he broke his big toe. I guess the funniest part of the story is that ball was still on the tee, unmoved.
The next story is a little bit different in that my Stepdad was sober and I was 19 years old. It is a funny story though so that’s all that matters.
We had just got back from a family holiday from mid-north Queensland and I had gone snorkelling for the 1st time up there. It was amazing. My Stepdad was telling me about how he used to spear fish when he was a kid. He grew up in Maroubra.
Anyway, he had this old school speargun that had no trigger, it was like operated on an elastic band, and he was showing me how it worked. So he pulls the spear back all tense and shoots it! What I didn’t tell you is that he was giving this tutorial on concrete.. the spear hit the ground and shot straight back into his thigh! After jumping around in pain for a while, he goes:
‘Ahh Pete, it doesn’t happen like that underwater.’
Don’t worry, it was only the blunt end of the spear so it didn’t embed itself in his leg haha.
There were plenty of other epic fails from my Stepdad with hand tools and all sorts of stuff but that will have to be for another blog.
Thanks for taking the time to read about my childhood funny memories. Drop a comment of some of your families fails.
As always, thanks for rocking with ya boy Prim!