This story is very old. Almost as ancient as I am. Luckily there is no photographic evidence of my misdeeds from when I was a kid. I would classify this particular event as exceptionally stupid and extremely dangerous on my part... mostly due to my ex sister being present. My ex sister being the miserable cow that she was is, used every possible opportunity that arose to torture me.Image Source
She had four years on me and she was always a lot bigger than me so I was at a disadvantage physically, but even psychologically she employed the most ruthless techniques to literally scare the living daylights out of me at every turn. This was one such time.
My family had been invited over for Sunday lunch to my great aunt - aunty Helene. She was a tall woman, always very polite and proud. A lovely lady who had a small cottage, daintily furnished like many grannies would. She loved to crochet and garden and she was a gentle and embracing spirit. I really liked her.
I was about 3 or 4 years old at the time. I was apparently a quiet and serious kid that liked order in my world. I also liked sweet stuff as with any kid that age right?
I remember aunty Helene made the most amazing roasts and with the roast meat there were always beautifully golden roast potatoes. The kind that are crispy on the outside and soft on the inside with lots of flavour. You can never seem to eat enough of them and even thinking about them now, my mouth is watering.
Everyone was in the lounge talking and generally just doing what families do - catching up. I was bored with the conversation and slunk away to get up to investigate other areas of the house and get up to mischief.
I found the kitchen and on the kitchen counter I spied something scrummy. A big mixing bowl full of green icing. There was a cake next to the bowl, but I wasn't interested in that, that was boring compared to the treasure I'd just found. I have no idea how I climbed up onto the kitchen counter, but clearly whatever obstacles there were in my way meant very little. I got up somehow and I dug in.
Literally.
With both hands.
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A while later my cantankerous sister came in and found me covered pretty much from head to toe in sticky, green icing. How I didn't get sick is beyond me. At first she seemed concerned and cleaned the icing off me, telling me that if mommy and daddy found out they would kill me.
Queue the lightbulb moment - B L A C K M A I L !
She chaperoned me back to the living room and not a word was uttered for the rest of the time we were there. I think that I have blocked out so much of my childhood, some of this is very blurry, but she held that icing over my head as blackmail for YEARS. Eventually it just became a trigger word. "GREEN ICING" and I would freeze in terror of the possible eventualities if she told my parents about the (absolutely delicious) frosting I had stolen.
She did eventually tell them, when I was in my late twenties and she laughed that maniachal laugh of hers while regaling my parents with the story of how she psychologically tortured me for years with what became the GREEN ICING MONSTER.
I regret my parents not having caught me green handed, I think they would have had more mercy.
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