No, not these kids. They look like angels.
My older brother was always getting into trouble and dragging me along with him. Worst of all was the cat and the laundry chute incident.
Our house had two floors and a basement. In the hallway on the second story was a laundry chute for dirty sheets, towels, and clothing, all of which came out by the washer in the basement. My brother told me that the laundry chute was like a big slide. He was too big to go down it, but I was just the right size. He worked on me for days to try to get me into that chute. Thankfully I scared because it looked dark in there.
He dropped a few tennis balls down the chute, then some pennies then my stuffed animals. We’d run down two sets of stairs to the basement and try to beat them so we could see them land but we were never fast enough. I knew this wasn’t the end of the laundry chute fascination.
Days later he started telling me that cats always land on their feet. I didn’t believe him. He said he could prove it. To this day I’m thankful he didn’t consider dropping the family cat from the roof. He did however convince me that he could deposit the cat in the laundry chute and I could see for myself when the cat came out that it would land on its feet. It had to be a top secret mission though so I couldn’t tell anyone the plan (this was always the instruction: don’t tell).
(Breathe deeply: there were no injuries caused to any living being by this experiment except perhaps to the derriere of my brother.)
In the basement he made sure there were plenty of sheets on the floor so the cat would have somewhere soft to land. I stayed in the basement while he rounded up the family cat. Pretty soon I heard his echo-y shout down the chute, “Are you ready? Here she comes!”
He told me to stand directly below the chute and look up so I could see the cat coming. Oh, I saw the cat alright. Do you know how many claws a cat has? I don’t but I can tell you that when they’re all coming at your face along with a few fangs it looks like a lot. The cat came screaming out of that chute in full attack mode and I was only saved a complete face removal by getting my foot tangled in the sheets and falling backward on my butt. We didn’t see that cat for days.
My brother was the master of persuasive communication but I eventually learned not to believe anything he told me. It was hard though. Now he has a tribe of beagles who adore him and volunteers at an animal shelter. However cats still avoid him. The word got around I guess.
My sister, brother and I were very creative and bored kids growing up. Unless we were asleep we were in some kind of mischief involving as many additional neighborhood kids as possible. We were dangerously convincing of our plans but it was always an adventure. Can you raise your hand and say, “That was me too!” Drop me a line below and let me know what mischief you brainstormed as a kid. I’d love to hear from you! Click here: I have a story, Zain
