Protestant Crossing

The other day I was talking to my friend Jay and we got to talking about when we were kids and the lies our parents used to tell us to get us to do what they want.

Jay says:
when i was about 3 or 4 i walked into my parents room all innocent etc with a hardon and asked my parents why it was suddenly so big
Jay says:
“thats what happens when you tell lies…”
Jay says:
ironically, i was a compulsive liar for a few years a while back, but hey

It got me to thinking about some of the lies my parents told me when I was younger, or clever ways they dodged my curiously uncomfortable questions…

I was elementary school age, somewhere between 5-11 years old. I’m in PEI camping with my parents at Marco Polo Land. We’d just gone to see Green Gables and were on our way home when we saw a crosswalk with a sign saying ‘Pedestrian Crossing’. I was still young enough that I didn’t know how to spell words like pedestrian and asked my father what it said. He must have seen this as a good opportunity to get me to not want to cross the street on my own…

“That says Protestant Crossing… only protestants are allowed to cross there.”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t allowed to cross there, we are catholic!”

“Oh… ok!”

I never did think to ask where the Catholic crossing was.

Dad 1 – Breigh 0

I’m somewhere around that same age, elementary school age. I was driving in the car with my mother and thinking about the day before at school when we were playing in the snow at recess.

It was winter and there was a lot of snow on the ground, so the weaker kids in the pack were getting “snow jobs” (yeah, I know you pervs know where this is going already). Snow jobs are when a kid gets pushed down and all the other kids kick snow all over them… thankfully I was always one of the more chubby kids so they never even bothered trying to push me over.

One of the boys yelled out “Don’t give me a SNOW job, give me a BLOW job!”. I laughed along with the rest of the other kids, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.

“MOM, what’s a blow job?!”… I think I felt the car swerve a little.

After a few minutes silence, she replied.. “That’s when a man puts his birdy into a woman’s mouth, when they are grownups.”

I know, looking back I’m kind of surprised she told me that too, but my parents are cool like that.. and yes, ‘birdy’ was my kid-word for both gender’s private parts.

“Do you do that to DAD?!!!!”

*Silence*

*More Silence*

“Do you want to go get an ice cream?“… ooooh so clever!

Mom 1 – Breigh 0

There were more… oh SO many more… instances like this scattered throughout my childhood. These are the two that have stuck with me most though, and they wonder where kids come up with the things they say sometimes!