I remember sitting at a breakfast joint in Waikiki when I realized there were times when Statler was full of crap. I mean, how the hell could she have invented Cinnamon Toast when it was on the freakin’ menu half way around the world? Cinnamon Toast Crunch really blew the lid off the conspiracy. Until that point, I pretty much believed everything Statler & Waldorf told me. I learned many things that year – the 6th grade.
It’s only fair to tell you that while Statler was very convincing of her tales, she also inadvertently trained me to lie faster than a ninja and with more conviction than a televangelist. So, here is my list of lies I shared with the parents who just did not understand.
1. My sister went through the basement window on her own. Dad was mowing the grass & moved our slide to the side of the house. Of course he told us not to go on it and of course we didn’t listen. She got to the top and got scared – after all, it was concrete under us. So, I got up there and gave her a good sisterly push down the slide. Right into the window well and she crashed through the basement window. Yeah, I was a wicked sister. Some stitches later & loads of attention, I found my sister keeping my secret – she didn’t snitch. Statler & Waldorf bought the story that she went down on her own and we carried on.
2. We won a swimming party with the Osmond Boys. Okay. In case my dork factor was ever in question – while other girls my age were rockin’ Doc Martens to the Chili Peppers, I was trying to get into the pants of the most devout Mormon boys. Ever. Not that I’d have had a clue what to do should that moment present itself, I just knew I wanted in. You know when an interviewer asks “what’s the craziest thing a fan has done?” that would be us they’d be talking about – if we’d have gotten caught. So, yeah, you could use the words “stalker”, “obsessed” or “crazy” but we preferred “fan”. So after one of their shows, my friends and I decided to go back to their hotel, ya know – hang in the lobby and pretend like we belong. But Statler & Waldorf were expecting us back any minute…what to do, what to do…we decided having the person who Statler liked the best (not me) call her. So my friend called her with our oh-so-smart lie “we won a swimming party with them back at their hotel” – and despite not having swimsuits, Statler bought it. Seriously. I figured she thought that we just wanted to go see them, but went along with it because really, how much trouble can you get into chasing the Osmonds? But the next day, she wanted details – which we provided and we carried on to the next show without missing a beat.
3. My report card isn’t ready. One thing is for sure – my kids aren’t going to be able to get away with anything around school because I’ve all ready done it. In grade 11, report cards had just been released for the semester and because 16 year olds walk around with half a brain, I didn’t think down the road – all of those skipped classes would show up & the moldy fruits of my labour in black and white. So, I had a genius idea. Statler & Waldorf were never big on school – my post secondary plans went over like a fart at a funeral and they told me I was wasting my money (note – not their money, so I felt zero guilt when I blew off sociology to chase the Barenaked Ladies across Alberta – see? Dork). Anyway, their expectations of me around high school was to pass. That’s it. So I was passing, which meant no one would be calling…but was it really necessary to alert them to how much I skipped? I believe that year I skipped 42 English classes (why didn’t anyone call them anyway?!), so it was a big number to hide! “The report cards aren’t ready yet” excuse seemed to be my best out. And it freaking worked. They never asked for it again. I believe it got smooshed up against rotten fruit in my locker and met a most unfortunate ending. I wish I could tell you that I am a brilliant neurosurgeon now, but I am not. I did not go on to broaden my scholastic mind. More like crush on the first prof I had (’cause clearly he’d see that I’m a total winner), change my mind on what I wanted to take every time something new entered my head while the thought of student loans kept me up at night.
So there you have it – dark secrets, that really bare more about what a loser I am than a bad ass.
PS – that night at the Osmonds hotel ended with my friend going up to their hotel door to take a picture of it only to be surprised when one of them freakin’ opened the door. We ran for the elevator. See? Bad ass.