I’ve been reflecting a lot on my youth lately for a writing project I’m working on. As I think back to those formative years, I can’t help but shake my head at some of the dumb things I did growing up.
Though I apologized for a few of these things when they happened, It might be best that I say “I’m sorry” again.I hope you all can forgive me.
Things I’m sorry for…
Dear dude from my first youth group, I’m sorry about that year at summer camp when I made fun of you for having big nipples. That was pretty dumb of me. Having big nipples really isn’t anything to be ashamed of. In fact, I was probably insecure because you were sporting quarters and all I had were dimes. I guess the joke is on me.
Dear next-door neighbor who I played ring-and-run on in sixth grade, I’m sorry that I banged on your aluminum storm door so hard, you were forced to take your heart medication to calm down. I was only 12 at the time and I really didn’t understand what cardiac arrhythmia was. Although, when your 20-year old son chased me down and caught me, I could have used some of those meds. If your ticker is still going strong, I hope you can forgive me.
Dear lady from the church we grew up in, I’m sorry about that time during that Wednesday night prayer meeting when I bit off all of my fingernails and left them sitting on your Bible. You weren’t very happy about that as I recall. I think you’re exact quote to me was “GET THOSE FINGERNAILS OFF MY BIBLE!” I remember taking back my fingernails, but I don’t remember saying I was sorry, so I hope you can forgive me.
Dear parents of my friend who was having a birthday party in junior high, I’m sorry about the time I called a 1-900 number from your house phone and ran up a $15 bill for 3 minutes of listening to a girl name Amber tell me she thought her roommate was cute. At the time I thought you were really smart for guessing it was me. Looking back now, what other troublemaker would have been so moronic?
Dear Erica my wonderful wife, though I wasn’t a kid when I did this, I’m sorry that I taped over your favorite home video of you and your high school friends with Week 12 Highlights from the 2004 NFL Season. I know I’ve apologized for this roughly 58 times since it’s happened, but maybe now that I’ve put in on my blog we’re even? No? Well, I tried.
Dear fellow members of my 12-yr old traveling All-Star Little League team, I’m sorry I lined out to first base to end our chances of going to Nationals. I made the whole team cry, which to be honest, was a pretty pathetic sight. My bad.
Dear girl I liked in 8th grade, I’m sorry I stopped kissing you after only a few seconds at that party in junior high. The thing is, your breath was awful. It tasted like you had brushed your teeth with a striped bass before the party. Please forgive me.
Dear pastor at our old church, I’m sorry I would occasionally rearrange your hymn numbers before the service on that little board in the front of the sanctuary. I know it made you wonder if you were going crazy. The good news is, you weren’t going crazy! And if it’s any consolation, it did lighten the mood a little when you thought you had screwed up the hymn number AGAIN. Bringing levity to the service, that’s what I was all about. Or not.
Okay, so getting all that off my chest felt pretty good. Almost therapeutic…
If you’ve got anything to say “sorry” for, feel free to apologize in the comments.
Don’t worry, this is a safe place.
Posted by Bryan AllainTags: confessions, I'm Sorry
Word on the street is that your “line out” was actually a pop out? That’s just what they’re saying in Atlanta.
considering I struck out looking, that’s great news.
see I’m trying to figure out how the one where you taped over your wife’s tape happened… did she not have it labeled and turned into one that couldn’t be recorded on?
labeled? yes. “do not record” tabs broken off? no.
I had a junky tape in the VCR the day before, and in my head it was still in there. didn’t realize she put her tape in the night before.
So it’s late on a Sunday night and we both are on the couch. She’s reading and I’m about to watch NFL Primetime. I press “Play” and i get 3 seconds of her and her friend Kandace talking…and then Chris Berman’s ugly mug shouting about an NFC West showdown. We both look at each other, and I nearly puked. Good times.
Dear Mother of my Kids Choir director,
At the time I thought that it was funny to pull your chair out from under you. I did not realized that you A) would fall for it B) Hit your head C) Were 60 + years old. So many years later, I hope you can forgive me.
Dear Next Door Tent Campers in West Virginia,
I need to apologize because I did a number 2 into a plastic bag then put it into your tent after you left for the day to fester and ruin your experience. I was frustrated because of your drug use and loud, drunken, (and possibly statutory) fornication kept us up the night before. The next day I was just so sleep deprived and angry, I had a lapse in judgement, and a strong urge to evacuate, so I decided to leave you a poo present. Please forgive me.
Dear Miss Campbell – I’m sorry I spent all of grade six making you regret your choice to be a teacher. I’m sorry I hid all the hangers, put tacks on your chair, hid your grade book, talked every moment of every day…well, you know the rest. I had help, but I was the ringleader. If it’s any consolation, I had students just like me when i taught Junior High. Mostly, I’m sorry you retired after that year.
Dear Sean:
I am sorry for hanging a K-Mart bag full of dead catfish from your basketball goal. I expected you to find it the next day since you were always better than me at basketball ( I assumed you played basketball everyday), but alas you did not. You found it a week later when the stench punched you in the face and when you noticed the swarm of bees flying in and out of the sagging bag o’ death.