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When we were kids we probably did some mischievous things for fun. Even when we knew our punishment, we would still like to push our limits. My water fight experience is a good example of knowing your limits and pushing them just a little too deep.
Every summer when I was little I would stay at my friend Mallorie’s. Her mom would go to work in the daytime, so we would be at the apartment all day by ourselves. Most of the time bored. One time we couldn’t think of anything else to do. Mallorie wanted to “cook”, well not “cooking”. We would get a pot and mix anything we could find. One time we mixed tuna, ketchup, pickle juice, meatloaf, garlic, and soy sauce. It was brown and gooey and it stunk like a dirty diaper. We tried to feed it to the dog but he wouldn’t eat it, so we had to throw it away.
“No, Mal, I’m tired of that, let’s do something fun and different,” I suggested.
So I filled a glass cup up with water and dumped it on Mallorie’s head. Her face was cherry red. Drops of water fell from her hair and clothes. There was a huge puddle where she was standing as if she had wet her pants. I saw revenge in her eyes and I knew my turn was on the way. She picked up her mom’s pot, one of those big turkey cookers, and filled it up with water. When she threw it, I ran, and instead of it hitting me, drenched her mom’s drapes. They were usually light blue but the water turned them navy. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed the baby’s bathtub and filled it up. As soon as we knew it we were having a water fight in the bathroom.
Our fun quickly came crashing to an end when Mal’s grandma knocked on the door.
“Mallorie open up I have to go to the bathroom” her grandma cried.
My heart sank and my whole body turned blue. I looked like a little kid who received coal for Christmas only Mallorie and I probably deserved the coal. We were in big trouble. I ran into the bathroom with my towel trying to soak up some of the water. It was impossible to clean up all the water. The whole bathroom looked like hurricane Katrina hit it. Mal walked to the door as if her mom had told her to look for the belt, so she could get a whooping. When she finally creeped up to the door, she unlocked the top lock and took a breath and slowly opened the bottom. She knew we were going to get busted and so did I.
Her grandma barged through the door and quickly ran into the bathroom.
‘I got to go pee” she screamed.
When she got to the bathroom there was water everywhere.
‘What happened? ” she yelled angrily. The bathroom looked like an indoor swimming pool. Water was up to our ankles with cups and pots we used floating on top. There was water coming down from the ceiling like it had been raining. Everything was drenched.
“We were straightening our hair and left the water running,” Mallorie quickly replied.
“Then why is there water on the ceiling?” her grandma asked.
At that moment we knew we were in big trouble. Her grandma made us sit on the couch. It was cool at first until seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours. I thought I was in prison. If I made a move I knew her grandma would swat me with her big leather belt. Her belt was made of real leather with Mendoza written across the back in red letters. It was thick, so when you would get hit s, it left a huge red mark that didn’t come off for days, so we stayed put until Mallorie’s mom got off from work.
I heard loud footsteps coming to the second floor of the apartment building. It was Mallorie’s mom and my mom was with her. Their eyes were big and their face had a stern lo look on it. I already knew what my mom had to say.
“What were you thinking?”
My guess was wrong. All they said was we were grounded. Which turned out to be worst than getting a spanking because we were grounded for the whole summer.
Our water fight at first, but it wasn’t worth getting grounded over. Mallorie and I knew our limits and we pushed them too far. Our parents, however, thought, it was funny and they still joke about it to this day.