Reason 4: #ThePringlesIncident
I AM PRETTY YOUNG IN THIS STORY, so please imagine me slightly shorter and a little more pathetic. This is a time in my life where I've suffered from a terrible thing, I had a really bad habit of sucking my thumb. It may seem like a small thing that children grow out of it, but not me. My thumbsucking had gotten so bad that I was able to fit an Oreo between my two front teeth because the constant thumb sucking was pushing them forward and apart. My parents like most put in this position were becoming more concerned by the day. I'm sure that there was a deep fear inside of them that their daughter would become a freak of nature more so than she already was. So they out their heads together and made a plan.Their first attempt, and I stress first since it was only the beginning of this ordeal, was to put hot sauce on my thumbs. Hey hoped that the sauce would discourage what ever will I had in me to suck my thumbs. My poor parents. Being the crazy freak of nature that I've always been I enjoy the hot sauce. I liked having to put on my thumbs. In actuality I think it probably encouraged the thumb sucking. My parents had to go back to square one. This actually was probably a lot harder than it sounds, trying to find a way for their child to stop. Just like a heroin addict and he could not seem to kick what most kids outgrew in a couple months. To me thumbsucking was a therapeutic necessity. And I fought harder than Amy Winehouse going to rehab, because to me thumbsucking was good.
I've always been a stubborn person by nature, this is my new development now there's been a part of who I am forever. So tiny me fought my parents through every tactic they had up their sleeve. I felt victorious. Surely they had to be wearing down by now. I was positive that they were just accept the idea that I would continue to suck my thumb if I wanted to and they couldn't stop me. I underestimated my parents. I underestimated stimated how much they wanted me to stop.
I'm not positive on the details, but my mom is either working at the school or her friend was working at the school and just told her. Anyway, my mom's friend worked with the special needs students. While talking to my mother she revealed that they sometimes put Pringles cans on the arms of kids to avoid them hurting themselves, as the can didn't let you bend your elbow. And didn't that idea just stick with my mother.
Later that day I'm sure I was oblivious I was imagining myself Victorius at that point, I thought the end of the war was near, and I was winning. My mother and father came home from work as usual, I felt prepared for anything that they were about to throw at me. Not one part of me in my tiny body and I think that what was about to happen was even a possibility.
That evening my mother took two Pringles cans remove the top and the bottom so they were just holler tubes. She then called me over and attach the Pringles tubes to my arms with duct tape. I don't remember quiet when the feeling of defeat washed over me, but I have a bed pretty soon. I don't know if you know what child flailing their arms with Pringles cans looks like, but it was pretty pathetic. I desperately try to get the kids off my arms, but I couldn't bend a one arm to reach the tape on the other. When I defiantly tried to suck my thumb despite the Pringle can my mouth was greeted only by the taste of my upper arm. It was an impossible feet. Victory, something that had been so close, was now light years away. My parents had won, me the loser with buck teeth and Pringles cans.
I think elbows are the most unappreciated part of the human body. Without them you can't drink,
you can't eat, and you definitely cannot suck your thumb.
