And also, running for "The Painted Turtle" causes me imagine parents who have children with a catastrophic disability or terminal illness and no doubt WISH their child could be rambunctious!
So here's my story:
I was about 6 or 7, and my sister Linda 18 months older. We were home alone (yikes). Actually, we had a babysitter who lived across the street, so I'm sure we "had permission" to go home for a minute. This is the same babysitter who tied my younger brother John to our clothesline post on top of an anthill...but that's another story!
Anyhow, we lived in a little 2 bedroom house in Baldwin Park, four of us kids in one bedroom...yup...and Mom & Dad in theirs. Well, Mom & Dad always locked their bedroom door when they were gone, and being the mischievous little girl that she was, MY SISTER (I was an angel of course) decided that we really needed to get in there and see WHY they needed to lock it. The hot water heater closet (yes they used to be inside the house in the olden days) was right next to their bedroom and we knew that they kept the key to their door on top of the hot water heater. So of course, I was directed by Linda to retrieve it. She said, "You're taller than me, so just stand on the handle and you can reach it." She used to always boss me around even though I was bigger than she was...that continued until she left to get married! LOL
Well, the "handle" she was talking about was, yes, the spigot used to drain it. I know you can see it coming now. LOL So I got a foot up onto the spigot and reached for the key. As I did so my foot turned...oops! Boiling hot water started pouring out. It was summer and we both had on shorts and were barefoot. Holy crap...we didn't know what to do. We'd both jumped back out of the way after getting burned and were scared to stand in the water to turn the spigot off. Water was running into our parents bedroom and down the hall toward the living room. One of us finally braved it and got it turned off. But now what? We could clean up the water in the living room and hall, but we were still locked out of my parents room.
Looking back now, it's hysterical, although I can still feel the panic like it was yesterday! We cleaned up the wet floor as best we could. Did we not think Mom would notice all the soaking wet towels? But I don't think she ever did. Maybe we were smart enough to hang them on the clothesline to dry. Anyhow, we then high-tailed it back to the babysitter's and agonized about what was going to happen when Mom & Dad entered their bedroom. We figured "death" or at least no TV for the rest of our lives.
So, they got home and Linda and I went straight to our bedroom (and probably hid under the bed) and listened as they walked into their bedroom. Nothing! We waited a little longer...nothing...how could that be??!! Neither of them were what you'd call "count to ten" kind of parents. LOL So Linda and I looked at each other and decided it was safe to go take a look. We walked into their room and there wasn't a drop of water on the floor! What? OMG, I wish I could've seen the look on our faces...it must've been priceless. All I can say now is "Thank God for hardwood floors."
We never did find out why they locked their door...looking back, knowing them, it was probably sex toys they didn't want us to find. Tee Hee!! Or maybe my Dad's gun...yeah...that must've been it! Sure, that's what they'll say . LOL I sure do miss my sis...we did have fun together growing up (most of the time). We are, after all, sisters!!.
