I have a LOT of cousins. Like maybe 30 first cousins. Dad is one of nine kids, and mom is one of four, so there’s a lot of room for folks carrying my bloodline to be running around. One of my cousins and I were born the same week…I am older than her by three days, so growing up we were always close. Y’all might know her mama, TrailerPark Barbie. Barbie might kill me for revealing that she is old enough (but not medicated enough) to be my mama…but there it is. And her daughter, TrailerPark Skipper, has dipped her toe into the blogging world with a guest blog over at Barbie’s Trailer Park, and a blog of her very own dedicated to pinching a penny til Lincoln begs for mercy.
There’s a point to this besides me plugging for y’all to go give her a read (though you certainly should). See…when Skipper and I were kids we went through a little prank playing phase. Flipping through the phone book and calling people with unfortunate last names (long before Caller ID rendered such phone play impossible) was one thing I remember rather well. But the best prank ever took place in the parking lot of Hills Department Store.
Skippers mom and dad had the very first minivan Chevy ever made. It was two-tone blue and had rows and rows of seats. It was like a rolling living room to a young kid used to being crammed into a Honda hatchback. And one day, myself, Skipper, and Barbie were out running around in their big ole van when Barbie had to make a stop at Hills. Hills was THE place to shop in those days…we had yet to get a Wal Mart, no one had heard of Target, and KMart just couldn’t compare. Barbie must have been running in to grab a few quick items, because she left Skipper and I in the van. (Something that would have gotten us kidnapped, molested, or taken by social services if it were to happen today, but back then, it was just fine.)
I don’t have a clue what prompted us to do it, where we got the idea from, or who instigated it (I’ll take credit to preserve Skipper’s sterling reputation) but we found a piece of paper and a pen and crafted the following note:
“Sorry I bumped your car. Don’t have any insurance. Hope it doesn’t cost you too much.”
The exact wording is lost to time, but that was the jist of the note we placed under the windshield wiper of a car within site of the van. I don’t think we expected to actually SEE the owner of the car find that note, but we did. She came out, saw the note, grabbed it, and then her jaw dropped, her hands flew to the sky, and she shreiked as she circled her undamaged car looking for the dent caused by the hit and run driver.
Skipper and I died laughing in the floor of the van, careful to hide ourselves from the view of the irate driver. I wonder if we told Barbie what we were laughing at when she got back to the van?