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Can be good or bad, something you still remember or was told to you.
I'll start, mine's about a dog bite. Hope you enjoy.
I had my early childhood growing up in the Philippines near Clark Air Base during the 70s. My father was in the USAF. Back then the majority of my Filipino relatives lived in the PI and a lot lived near us. Daily visits were a common thing.
One day when I was 5 or 6, we threw a party at our house for family and friends. We owned a small dog, a mutt, not really sure what it was. It had short white hair and his name was Jeffrey. He happened to be chained up in the backyard for the party and was barking up a storm. Finally my mom got fed up with him and told me to give him a plate of scrap food for him to eat. I set the plate down for Jeffrey and he starts chomping away. I stay with him to help calm him down, petting and saying things like, "You need to be quiet. You can't roam around with all these people here."
Jeffrey stops eating and looks at me with a head tilt as though disliking my patronizing tone and then bites me in the mouth. I run inside screaming with blood on my face. Someone grabs me and takes me to the bathroom. He holds me underneath the shower head while the water washes off the blood. I get driven to the hospital for stitches.
I learned this part later on: My dad was furious with the dog, naturally, and wanted the dog destroyed. One of my uncles told him he'd take care of it. My dad insisted, "I want this dog destroyed. He bit one child, he'll do it again." My uncle once again said he'd take care of it.
Back to me: A few days later I'm at my uncle's house (the same one who took Jeffrey). Inside the kitchen a lot of my female relatives were preparing dinner of fish and rice. They're chopping off fish heads and tails with butcher knives and gutting them. Quite a nasty sight for a kid. I still won't eat seafood to this day. I ask my aunt, "What else are you cooking?"
"I got something on the stove."
I walk to the stove and peer inside the pot. There I discover my former dog Jeffrey boiling in water.
"Um, can I have peanut butter & jelly?"
The end.![Big grin :D :D](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)
I'll start, mine's about a dog bite. Hope you enjoy.
I had my early childhood growing up in the Philippines near Clark Air Base during the 70s. My father was in the USAF. Back then the majority of my Filipino relatives lived in the PI and a lot lived near us. Daily visits were a common thing.
One day when I was 5 or 6, we threw a party at our house for family and friends. We owned a small dog, a mutt, not really sure what it was. It had short white hair and his name was Jeffrey. He happened to be chained up in the backyard for the party and was barking up a storm. Finally my mom got fed up with him and told me to give him a plate of scrap food for him to eat. I set the plate down for Jeffrey and he starts chomping away. I stay with him to help calm him down, petting and saying things like, "You need to be quiet. You can't roam around with all these people here."
Jeffrey stops eating and looks at me with a head tilt as though disliking my patronizing tone and then bites me in the mouth. I run inside screaming with blood on my face. Someone grabs me and takes me to the bathroom. He holds me underneath the shower head while the water washes off the blood. I get driven to the hospital for stitches.
I learned this part later on: My dad was furious with the dog, naturally, and wanted the dog destroyed. One of my uncles told him he'd take care of it. My dad insisted, "I want this dog destroyed. He bit one child, he'll do it again." My uncle once again said he'd take care of it.
Back to me: A few days later I'm at my uncle's house (the same one who took Jeffrey). Inside the kitchen a lot of my female relatives were preparing dinner of fish and rice. They're chopping off fish heads and tails with butcher knives and gutting them. Quite a nasty sight for a kid. I still won't eat seafood to this day. I ask my aunt, "What else are you cooking?"
"I got something on the stove."
I walk to the stove and peer inside the pot. There I discover my former dog Jeffrey boiling in water.
"Um, can I have peanut butter & jelly?"
The end.