Secrets Parents Don't Know

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ABodyBetty

ABodyBetty

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:glasses2:We have our secrets that our parents don't know about. What is your secret? When I was growing up everyone knew everything that I did because they knew my dad except one small thing. At our school we had a basement and hung out there on breaks. Well me, my boyfriend, friend and her boyfriend were down in the basement. We were facing each other and maybe a little bit to close. Then all of a sudden the lights went out. When they turned on we were directed to the office for turning the lights off and making out. We weren't doing either one of them. Anyway the principal took the girls in the office first. He gave us a real hard time and gave us this big long speech. He also said he was going to tell our parents. Boy I was scared I knew what was waiting for me when I got home. When the boys went in the office he laughed and joked with them. WTF!!! Anyway, the principal never told my dad thank goodness and he never found out. No more basements for me alone with a boy no more. Glad my dad can't read this or he would still give a lecture. That is what you get for being a Southern Baptist preacher daughter. :laughing:
 
Oh oh. Cats outta the bag now. The preachers daughters were always the wildest girls in town. lol
 
I had a few secrets until my brother up and decided to tell all. Later mom asked me about things I had forgotten. i had to call my brother..
"Did I really do that ?"
 
My grandparents raised me. Anyway, I used to smoke pot. As I'm sure some of us on here are or have. I don't anymore mainly because of my job. So, to this day they don't know and hopefully never will.
 
my mother had a 67 Mustang with a somewhat built 302 in it, long story. anyway, i used to take it out at night on my permit by myself, she thought i was going to get a friend with a license but he did not have one neither, not that it mattered, no permit driving at night. i don't think she ever found out about all of the police chases that car was involved in.
 
I almost blew up/burned down my folks' house. I was about...oh, I donno, I guess I was maybe 12 or so, just on the edge of being old enough to be left alone in the house, mom and dad went out for the night. I was puttering around down in the basement and I tripped (again) over the floor drain grate. This was about a 7" diameter by ¼" thick cast iron grate that had rusted such that it no longer fit into its recess, and I was forever tripping over it. I decided cleaning and painting it would be a good project for the evening.

I grabbed the grate and a bottle of muriatic acid and headed up to the garage. All I needed, I figured, was something about the right size to put the drain grate in and soak it in the acid. After some looking around, I found something exactly the right size: A 9" aluminum pie pan.

I put the grate in the pan on the garage floor. I think I was wise enough to don rubber gloves, and I think I also put on eye goggles. I carefully poured in the acid until it was about 1¼" deep. Almost immediately, the acid began fizzing and brown gunk began floating off the grate. This was an encouraging sign, I thought.

And then things went very, very wrong. The fizzing turned to violent boiling, jetting two feet above the surface of the pan. Clouds of hot steam and nauseating gases were released. Eep! Realizing I needed to get the garage ventilated in a hurry, I punched the button for the electric garage door opener, which was directly above the erupting mess.

About halfway through the door's motorised upward travel, it occurred to me that the primary main gas being released directly below the garage door opener in great quantity was Hydrogen. I debated punching the (unshielded) button again to stop the door motor, risking a spark at the switch, or continue to risk sparks from the (unshielded) motor. While I was trying to figure out which was the least-worst option, the door reached the top and stopped.

I used a push broom to sweep the now-fizzling remains out of the garage and onto the driveway to be hosed away. They consisted of a very clean drain grate, a pile of stinking, steaming grey sludge, and a 9" aluminum pie ring with ragged, eaten lower edges. Oh, and a streaky area on the concrete garage floor so clean it was bright white. Later, my mother would accuse me of having spilled white paint in the garage. I truthfully denied it.

And that's the story.
 
As much as I would ike to say....

the case is still pending .......

Ha ha ha ha
 
well, come to think of it... I lived with my grandparents during my teenage years. I did have my first son at 17 and didn't tell them until after he was born. Does that count?
 
My adopted kids are both out of control with drugs, sex with anything that moves, lies, deceit, and bonafied Jerry springer drama.

I sometimes wish I had never met them.
 
Galactic_eyes said:
My grandparents raised me. Anyway, I used to smoke pot. As I'm sure some of us on here are or have. I don't anymore mainly because of my job. So, to this day they don't know and hopefully never will.
Click to expand...


Much the same story here. I found out as I got older that it put me to sleep, wasting a perfectly good buzz. Oh well, it was the 70's. Still, many years later I'm married and well established and I'm home for a visit with the parents. My Mom says she found something that belongs to me. Turns out to be a baggie with a small amount of dried up pot in the bottom. Guess I never was fooling them, but it actually belonged to my younger brother, (you know, the one who can do no wrong). It was all pretty much good natured reminiscing at that point and I made sure the evidence was destroyed, no sense in Mom getting charged with possession now. Still made my turd of a little brother fess up later!
 
My dad remarried when I was about 30. His new wife had 2 daughters, one was 19 and the other was 23……..

I was single……

Anyway….. I have had sex with both of them several times over the years.
 
One time when I was about 16 and my half brother was 14, I was playing guitar at his moms house in his room and decided to write a song about him and his best friend being gay. I wrote it as if my brother wrote it to his friend and then I played and sang it for them. They both were mad but still thought it was funny.

We left to go hang out somewhere else and I left the paper with the lyrics in his room. His little 6 year old sister ended up going in there and out of all the things she could have taken, she took the paper with the lyrics and brought it out to his mom. When we got home she took my brother into another room and yelled at the top of her lungs. He never ratted me out but his mom did think him and his friend were gay for the next year or so :)
 
My Mom said to me a while back that I was the only kid that didn't cause them any grief growing up. I told here I was the only one that didn't get caught!
 
Doing 85 in a 45 in Mom's Ford wagon, got caught by San Jose P.D. on Almaden Expressway, cops pulled their guns on us after they caught us. Mom simply told Dad I got a speeding ticket. To this day, he doesn't know I wrecked my pants that night and almost got hauled away.....
 
I used take pop's unregistered 72 ford truck [w/transplanted 429] and pick up my younger girlfriend and her girlfriends from high school.

I ever so often had a pony keg in closet, sometimes outside the window in the bushes I could just reach out and filler up.

My friends and I would tattoo other friend and ourselves, didn't always turn out the best for some..

I remember gold fish in the ice tray & microwave, and plenty of beer cans n'such in the pools death box along with clothing..

And yeah I bought a 74 dodge dart custom 4 dr when I was 15 and parked it down the street and drove it for about a year[reg ran out].
one night while stoned/drunk and gassed out from the carbon monoxide [exh leak+flr rot] I pulled out in front of a ricer and total'D'Em.
The car stalled , I looked at him, he looked at me, I started it back up and split.

youth.....the days of dumb.
 
I had a house party once that I intended to get caught on because I felt bad that my mom had never caught me doing anything bad. So I didnt clean out the ash trays and left the house clean but moved things around, put beer cans "hidden" in the recycling.. She was so proud about catching me made me feel good that I made her day after years of parties and other illegal and immoral practices.

My kids will not get away with **** LOL
 
we my mom and older brother lived next door the grandma and grandpa/ was out of work and needed gas. grandpa had a 55 gal drum he kept under the step to the up stairs of the garage well it was 1.00 in the morn. had a flip style latch as i was filling up the gas can i could not tell how full it was so i lit a bic. lighter flash from the fumes the valve stoped the 55 gal. drum from going up but the can was burning fast i threw it into the feild behind the garage lit up the night sky to say the least. 5 gal of gas burning at 1.00 . there was a burn spot in the back yard 30feet wide.i had no eye lashes. they never said anything abount it. my mom had a slideing door in her room, did not know how she did not see it. if the drum would have caught the garage there car and grandpas cub cadet. the garage was a old train depot that he had torn down and rebuilt was old wood burn up real fast.als
 
I did the whole weed thing. Parents found out allready though. I smoked cigs when I was 14 parents allready found out. Ive been pulled over once for excessive acceleration in my spirit the night of my junior prom, I really didnt do to many things im sure there are things I have forgot about.
 
When I was 16, about 1994 i was at a party driving my dads 1970 Coronet 500. My friend I brought was so drunk I was made to take him home. It was so foggy you could not see a hundred feet. Fearing he was going to puke in the Coronet I was hauling *** and failed to realize the intersection was coming up. The stop sign went by in a flash and the car was air born over an intersection. I came down on a gravel road nearly losing it. I went to make a u turn and backed up too far, one tire went off the shoulder and the open rear end was spinning so I couldn't move. As I'm trying to get on the road said friend starts puking on the pass door panel. I ran around to open the door and he fell face first in the muddy ditch. Got the car on the road, buddy in car and back to his place. Went back to the party cleaned off the door panel and went home. The next morning dad used the car, it was his daily and asked how it got so dirty inside. I don't remember what I said but spent the rest of the day washing and detailing the car. I made it much cleaner that it was so he asked no more questions.
Not long after that my dad needed an alignment and didn't remember there being bent sway bar brackets before. Stupid kids! :toothy10:

I got the car from him a couple years later and dropped in a 440. It had seen its fair share of unlawful activity. Now she awaits the day I restore her. Damn I miss driving that car!

coronetslicks.jpg
 
Growing up poor in a neighborhood of spoiled rich kids meant I was one of the local patsy's for anything that went bad in the area and the police were constantly calling for me , the 12 rich kids get a ride home the 2 or 3 poor kids go to the station but the I'll give you one I kinda got away with - My best friend Danny Simpson got a Sunbeam Alpine {yes he had a cool dad } when we were 13 well after a year of converting it to a Tiger,well one weekend while his mom was at the cottage we went for a little cruise { from the beaches in TO we got caught on Airport Rd -just a little cruise eh lol } well this young cop sees this cool english sports car and pulls us over just to check it out and we're chatting with him and he's admiring the car and it's all good until he spots the hand painted tag on the plate { we were 14 but could pass for 16 with our cheesy little mustaches but even in the 70s they didn't like unregistered cars eh}Doh! he took us in and called Danny's dad who came and got us . Man he beat us pretty bad as in those days parents were encouraged to beat other peoples kids as well as there own but in the end he never told Danny's mom and so my mom never found out and the beating wasn't for doing it, it was for doing such a sloppy job on the plate that the cop spotted it , like I said he had a cool dad
 
It was the late '70's, we did lots of stuff our parents didn't know about, and there was a lot I think they knew about but they chose to ignore it.

Underage drinking wasn't a big deal. An lonely old alcoholic couple regularly had me over for their special bloody mary's...my folks knew I was just over at Jim & Vi's place.
 
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