Have you ever done something so terribly bad that you couldn't bring yourself to admit it? Here, adults share the worst thing they did as a child that their parents still don't know about to this day.
Looks like they're taking these ones to the grave...
1/20. I took the blame for breaking the toaster when I was a teenager.
My parents came home one day & asked me why the house smelled like burnt syrup, and I told them it was because I had tried to make cinnamon toast by sugaring my bread before toasting it. When the toaster broke a couple days later, I was blamed.
Of course, I hadn't touched the toaster that morning. The house stank of hot sugar because I'd been boiling 3 gallons of brown-sugar wort, which was now fermenting into hooch in the fencerow outside.
2/20. When I was younger, I used to hide under racks at department stores to scare my mom. I always got in trouble for it. I would run ahead of her, hide in one, then wait till I saw her shoes to pop out. Well one day at Macy's I was sitting in the clothes rack as usual, giggling like a schoolgirl, when I see my moms shoes. THE TIME TO ATTACK IS NOW!
I jump out screaming and flailing my arms around when I realize this isn't my mom. This lady turns white, almost looks like she's about to faint, then she starts crying. Then I start crying. She falls to the floor and everyone rushes up to her while I'm just standing there crying. People think she's my mom because I'm crying near her, but after two minutes I wander off and find my mom. I dont know what happened to that lady.
3/20. When my older brother was one month away from his 16th birthday and I was 14, or parents left us alone for the weekend. My brother had his learners permit, but no license.
We took the family car and drove it 20 minutes away to the movie theater to watch Wayne's World the day it was released. No regrets.
4/20. I lost my Mom's engagement ring.
When I was about six years old, my mom was making dinner and she had taken her ring off because she washing a pot or pan and I grabbed the ring and took it back to my room and then got distracted by something else that caught my eye. When she started freaking out I was so scared I didn't say anything and denied later on that I touched it. We later moved out of the house, but never found it.
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5/20. Made a homemade bomb with a buddy when we were in 8th grade. Black powder unrolled from a pack of 200 Black Cat fireworks.
Poured all of the black powder into a spent CO2 cartridge, made a very long fuse and sealed it with electrical tape, planted the bomb in the mud of a cattle field next to a small stream, lit it and ran like hell.
Blew a crater the size of a truck tire into the bank of the stream and a neighbor called the cops after the explosion. We hid in a nearby grove of trees for over two hours until the cops left and we were sure that they were gone. Though tempted, we never made another one again.
6/20. When I was just a young lad of about 9, I caught strep throat and the flu. For some reason my mom thought I was faking, even with a fever and puke on my bedroom floor, and she forced me out the door to school. However, I knew I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors at my school by showing up sick, so I simply walked around my block for an hour or so until my parents left to go to work.. This is where I messed up.
In my blinding rage to get back at my mom I did something that I'll never tell them. I came home, opened my fridge, grabbed a gallon jug of milk, and hocked the most glorious loogie of my life right into the milk. It made an audible "plop" as it landed in the milk, but it didn't dilute due to the thickness of the mixture of sinus liquid and spit, so I shook it as hard as my 9-year-old arms could shake it, spreading the seed of my diseases throughout the jug. That night, pasta night. Everyone is drinking the milk, my parents and my two sisters. "Do you want any milk blacklightRAINBOW?"
EVERYONE got strep throat. My dad got the flu.
7/20. So in 6th or 7th grade I was mad at my friend but instead of telling her I decided to trash her locker. I wrote "b---c" on it, squirted juice into it, probably other stuff I don't remember. When it was discovered they got the whole grade together and said no one was going anywhere until someone confessed. We all just stood there for hours.
I couldn't bring myself to confess because (1) I might lose my friend, (2) I had a reputation as being a really good kid that I didn't want shattered and (3) the longer we stood there the more furious everyone would be at me.
Eventually the class clown said he did it just to end the standoff. He said it was a random joke, he didn't even know it was her locker, etc, but he still got suspended for a few days.
So yeah. I screwed over my friend, screwed over my whole class, screwed over the class clown and was a lying cowardly jerk.
8/20. Your car wasn't stolen and then crashed a mile away by some dumb criminal. It was stolen and crashed by your dumb son, who just wanted some late night Taco Bell.
I was 11, hungry, and not very smart.
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9/20. Accidentally burned down about ten acres of woods and a few fields around our apartment complex. No one injured and not a single residence damaged.
I mostly stopped setting plants on fire after that.
10/20. One time I got in trouble for being on a roof of a school and, while I told the police and my parents that some asshole kids tossed my favorite hat up there, I never told anybody what I did to those kids before I scaled the roof.
There were a pair of twins about my age. They started harassing me in this playground not far from where my parents had rented a motel room (we were on vacation). I hated bullies and, because we were away from home, I felt like I could actually stand up for myself without any longterm consequences.
One walked over, grabbed my favorite hat and tossed it on the school roof. Without hesitation, I picked up a fist-sized chunk of asphalt and he started running. I chased him and, mid-stride, beaned him right in the back of the head with it. It knocked him down hard and, while he bled in the grass, his brother came over to defend him. I did this wicked windmill sucker punch to the brother's jaw. They both started crying and limped off the playground. I then pushed a trashcan over to the wall, climbed up and got busted with my hat in my hand. I never told anybody about the beating I delivered to those kids. It was pretty bad.
11/20. As a curious kid, I tried smoking. My parents arrived so I hid the cigarette in my cousin's backpack. My cousin got scolded and grounded for a month.
12/20. My brother is 3 years younger than I am. When I was about 6 and he was 3, he would say "yes" to every question that was asked of him by my parents. Did you eat your veggies? "Yes." Did you kill a family of bees by developing a radiation gun? "Yes."
Anyway. I often blamed a lot of minor stuff I did on him because I knew he would take the fall. Did you leave the TV on? "Yes."
Being the mean older brother I was, I wanted to see how far I could push it. So one day I literally peed on the floor in the middle of the living room when nobody else was around. Just whipped it out and emptied my bladder. My parents asked my brother if he did it and of course he responded with "yes." He got in trouble and I got to watch cartoons.
Also in high school I found where my parents kept their weekly cash and stole $20 here and there for years.
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13/20. When I was 12 I hacked our cable box so we could get the Playboy Channel. I did it in such a way that they couldn't tell, since I could turn the "hack" on and off.
14/20. When I was 16 my grandma gave me her old car. It was an old beat up Toyota and I was ecstatic to have my own car. Fast forward a few months and the phone rings in the middle of the night. I answered since I was up and it was a girl I knew from school. She asked me for a ride to a party... but I wasn't invited to this party. She begged and begged and I finally relented.
Back country roads in the middle of the night are tough to navigate, but even tougher to navigate when she decided she would "thank" me in her own special way. I ended up crashing in the ditch and the damage wasn't that bad, just a slightly dented hood and brush guard. When my dad saw it the next day after I got my buddy in a truck to pull me out, he assumed he had just overlooked it when grandma gave it to me and never even asked me about it. To this day mom and dad still don't know.
15/20. I once forged my mom's signature for a report I got sent home with. Her name starts with a "T" and she wrote it like a backwards "5". Except I didn't realize that at the time so that so I wrote her name as "5rudy". I'm still shocked the school never called her.
16/20. A friend used to "borrow" 2-3 bottles of liquor from the local store per day. I would buy them $10 each and keep them in my locker.
Before school, between classes, and during them my locker evolved into the place to be. Sometimes 10, 15 kids huddled around taking swigs. Well it got to the point where I had to much to fit in my locker and started taking them home.
I had probably 20-25 water bottles of rum stashed under a dresser. My dad found them, proceeded to start the lecture/grounding, but right then I have this brilliant idea.
"Dad it's not alcohol, its low grade rocket fuel I've been mixing for science class, and no it's not flammable. Go ahead, smell it."
He never did. Was never punished. You can bet your bottom dollar my next science fair project was how to make rocket fuel.
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17/20. When I was a kid, 6 or 7, my family went to a friend's house fora summer party type thing. Well the parents were drinking and not paying much attention to the kids. My mother's friend's daughter, who was 3-4, wanted a toy she left on the pool deck. I open the door for her and just as she grabs her stuffed animal, I get the funniest idea. I shove her into the pool.
I pushed her so hard she landed in the middle of the pool, the deep part. SPLASH! I laugh as she sinks to the bottom. At this point the realization of my actions kick in.
I scream and jump in the pool. I pull her up from the bottom and over to the ladder. I look up and there's like 6 parents on the deck. A few tend to the girl while a few others tell me how much of a hero I am for jumping in after her. I was well behaved for the rest of the day.
18/20. My friend really didnt want to go to school, so he pretended his stomach hurt. He over acted badly, and his mom freaked out and took him to the hospital. The way he described his pain to the doctors, it sounded like his appendix ruptured, so they removed it.
His mom has no idea.
19/20. I rode my bike 4 miles at 3am to pick up my 13-year-old brother from a friend's house. He had apparently bought some pot that was laced with something else (they guessed PCP) and started having convulsions. They were all freaking out, telling me not to call an ambulance and just get there right now.
I carried him over my shoulder while walking my bike home, kept him conscious, and kept him talking. When we got home, it was 6:30am. I got him in the shower and went upstairs (mine and my brother's bedrooms were in the basement) to make breakfast. My stepdad was already awake.
"You're up early," he said. I mumbled something about going back to sleep after breakfast, then rushed back downstairs and spoon-fed my brother some oatmeal. He slept for almost a day.
I should have told them. I should have had them take him to the hospital. I didn't. He survived, thankfully, but I know that it would break my mom's heart if I told her now.
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20/20. When I was about 16 or so I got the genius idea to not only skip school, but to "borrow" my parents' truck and drive my girlfriend around. This was easy for me to do since both my parents worked at the same place, drove together in their other car, and left for work before I went to school, and got home well after I did. Not to mention the fact that I could easily pose as my father calling the school to tell them I wouldn't be in that day, since they had no idea what he sounded like. It was the perfect plan. And so, armed with nothing more than my permit and explosive teenage hormones I set out on my adventure.
And what a day it was. I don't really remember what we did, spare for driving around a lot. I drop her off around 3 o'clock and retire to my own home, careful to park exactly as my father did before proudly strutting inside after a scheme well pulled. I turn on the TV and relax next to the family computer with a victory glass of D.r Pepper when my best friend shows up on AIM, a sign that he had finished with his day of school.
"Sucker", I chortled to myself as I opened up a message window to brag about my shenanigans.
I then began to regale my schoolyard chum with every juicy detail of my romantic tryst all over the backwoods of upstate NY that I spent with... some girl who twelve years later I don't remember the name of. That part wasn't important. What was important was that I quite possibly did the worst thing I had done to date. Or so I thought. My friend, in classic best friend style, began to point out little nagging doubts about how I was going to get into so much trouble.
"What if the girl got in trouble somehow, blamed you, and her parents called yours?"
Plausible, but unlikely on the grounds that I chose to simply ignore it.
"What if your dad notices something off about his truck?"
This point made my heart stop. My dad could be a bit overly aware sometimes. I knew that he didn't often check the mileage on his vehicles, and if he did notice it was off he'd probably just shrug it off. This was pure conjecture on my part, but I wanted to believe it as I was starting to panic slightly.
"What about the gas?"
Sweet baby J, the gas. I hadn't stopped at the station on my way back. How empty was it now? Furthermore, how full had the tank been at the start of my little escapade? Half? Three quarters? Was it full? Better to just fill it up and let him think Mom did it. Unless he asks her since she meticulously keeps her receipts-- NO! I couldn't worry about this now! Time was of the essence, they would be home at five, a scant hour until my certain doom! I ran outside. Hands shaking, I turned the engine on and warily peeked with one eye at the gas gauge.
I sat there unblinking as my entire body went cold. I didn't have enough gas to get out of the driveway again, much less to the Sunoco a few miles away. I was dead. Absolutely, completely, irrecoverably, de-- Suddenly I found myself sprinting across the yard to our garage. My dad, like most men, had several spare cans of gas to fuel his various tools and tractors lying about. If I could use one, I'd just fill it up along with the truck! Simple! But of course, all four cans were empty. My gaze fell upon our riding lawn mower. I could see it was chock full of precious liquefied dinosaur remains.
Was I desperate enough to ride it to the gas station and back? I don't know, because that's not what I was considering. I needed to get the gas out of the tractor and into the truck. But unfortunately we didn't have a siphon or any type of hose for me to suck it out myself. But that was ok, because in my panic stricken desperate-to-not-get-grounded eyes I saw the next best thing buried amongst our mountains of junk.
An old upright Hoover we never used anymore.
The plan was simple, back the tractor out into the driveway, use the vacuum to siphon the gas, and then through the use of a funnel, empty the bag into the truck. Simple, right? Now I knew at some level that gas and electricity don't mix, but I couldn't be concerned with science right then. It went about as well as you'd expect. I turned the vacuum on, hose attachment submerged in gasoline, and narrowly avoided blowing myself up. It didn't explode right away. First it began to shake violently, which I simply attributed to it being old. I still stepped back though. Then with a loud pop and rushing noise, a three foot plume of fire shot straight out the back of the vacuum which then, because of the violent shaking, began to slowly tip backwards. So I now have a Hoover Vacuum at a 45 degree angle in my driveway, spewing flames out the back of it, and shuddering like it's about to take off into outer space. Like, "Sorry, kid. My home planet needs me. Good luck with your folks." And then it blew up.
Miraculously, I am unharmed. The truck, the tractor, the funnel, all fine. Like a silent zombie, I began to clean everything up. Put the tractor back, cleaned up all the bits of molten plastic and threw them out, and hosed off the burnt rocks in our driveway/threw out the ones I couldn't clean. Spare the lingering stench of burnt plastic, everything looked the same. I quietly retreated to my room to await my punishment like a man, content that I couldn't mess up anymore than I already had. At some point before they got home, perhaps due to stress or just being a teenager, I fell asleep on my bed.
I awake the next morning in a daze and tentatively crept from my lodgings to sheepishly greet my parents. Only my mother was home, my dad was gone.
"Your father was not happy this morning." She told me.
I solemnly nodded and awaited my fate.
"He went out to go to work today and saw the gas cap open on his truck. Some jerk must have snuck out there in the middle of the night and siphoned the gas from it because the tank was damn near empty. Had to take my car and a gas can into work, he's going to have to fill it later."
And they never found out the truth.