I Never Told Anyone

There are all sorts of things I kept quiet for a long time, like when I got paddled in 6th grade for tacking Greg Wappel in gym class (why did I do it? For no reason. The gym teacher asked me if I'd like to stand on that line and have him tackle me, and I thought it would be child abuse, so bring it on and I'll tell the cops, but he paddled me instead, and nobody called my parents because they'd already given the blanket OK to us being paddled, as the Dunce paved the way for me).

Or like all of the "search and destroy" missions the Dunce and I went on.

Or like the time I was driving the Volvo, and I remembered that the Not-Yet-Chikkyn-Farmer had practically verbally abused me (well, not really even close) on the necessity of checking the oil in the car every time I filled the tank. I had filled the tank some time earlier, but I didn't remember then (or I was running late, or whatever). But I did remember when I was almost home, so I stopped and checked the oil.

Sure enough, it was a quart low.

So I went into the nearby convenience store and bought a quart of oil and proceeded to fill it. But I never had the most steady hand when it came to pouring, so I managed to pour the oil all over the place.

If that wasn't enough, it ignited.

I asked someone nearby if they had a fire extinguisher, but nobody did, so I slammed the hood shut and started back into the store to ask for a fire extinguisher. When I slammed the trunk, it put out the fire.

And there was no damage to the car, so I never told anyone (until today).