I was hanging out with my family yesterday and, after struggling to follow a rapid-speed Spanish conversation about life on my great-grandma’s ranch in Mexico, I defaulted to the kids table like I always do. My cousins are all (oh god, already?) high school age and younger and I was hanging out with the middle school crowd. I got to hear such gems as “I poisoned this guy in Assassin’s Creed and he went like this *spastic movements* and died! Then I poisoned a monk and he was all *the same spastic movements* and he died!” and “You know what my favorite weapon is in Dragon Quest 9? The bastard sword!”
I forgot about that age. Any excuse to say a curse word in an acceptable context is used as often as possible, its meaning stretched to the breaking point. It’s so funny to watch them lower their voices to curse conspiratorially and then look at me with that sneaky smile of a kid who knows his mom would give him a serious earful if she heard that kind of language. I apologize in advance to my aunt for introducing them to Red vs. Blue, which had a lot more cursing than I remember but was just as hilarous.
And while I’m apologizing, I was also really annoying as a tween, so the rest of this article is going to be apologies.
To my late grandpa: I’m sorry that I thought you would want to know the expansive and convoluted love polygons of Ranma 1/2. I honestly can’t believe you let me go on as long as you did.
To my drama teacher, Mr. Blackley: Turning a Johnny the Homocidal Maniac comic into a monologue for Drama 2 tryouts seemed like a good idea at the time, but would have been a more effective display of my acting abilities if you had known in advance that I am not violent. Sorry you had to worry about me going into a berserker rage at the mention of the word “wacky” and murdering you and my class mates.
To my Spanish teacher, Mr. Tritt: Blowing bubbles from the frontmost desk in class was fun for me, but I imagine incredibly distracting for you and the rest of the class. Also, I’m sorry that it became something of a fad for a while there.
To the substitute teacher who happened to be in my first period class when I decided it was Fake Mustache Wednesday: I actually do feel a little bad about this one. I didn’t think you would assume that because someone in a fake mustache offered you a fake mustache that it was a school dress up day and, due to me always getting into class 15 minutes early, don a mustache before anyone else had arrived, much to the confusion of the sleepy student body, who filed in one by one to see the substitute, my sister, and I wearing cheesy fake mustaches. I’m also sorry that I didn’t buy a yearbook for that school because I’m pretty sure Fake Mustache Wednesday made it in there and it was something that I did on a whim because I had a backpack full of mustaches. For lots of blurry pictures of ugly kids in fake mustaches (and an extended fight scene with my giant penis pillow), click here!
Mom: Shut up. But also, thanks for listening to all the absolutely terrible stories I came up with in middle school. I still have the ridiculously large 3-ring binder full of them and they get funnier with time.
I’d like to make a blanket apology to any teachers who had to teach around me dressed up in various costumes (mostly as a pirate) throughout my middle and high school career.
All that said, I’m the best.