Grounded

In yesterday's post I mentioned a story about when BFL, Sissy, and I were grounded from the car, which just happened to be a super-sick Dodge Grand Caravan. (No, I'm not kidding.)

I was talking to Match last night about the post and we started talking about that story and I started crying because I was laughing so hard, so I thought I would share with all of you.

(I looked for pictures of the minivan, but couldn't find any - sorry.)

(Match, do you remember what year the model we had was?)

Anyway, back to the story.

Let me set the stage for you:

BFL was 19, Sissy was 14, and I was 13. We typically spent our mornings "chopping cotton" on my uncle's farm. Match.mom was our crew boss.

BFL was pretty much living with us during the summer and her family lived next door.

We spent a lot of nights "cruising" in the van. (Match you may want to stop reading real quick...) We were the fastest car in town - the only car that could beat us was Vinnie's El Camino. And we used to do things like spin donuts in the lot at the cotton gin down the road, and jump the railroad tracks in Valencia.

The great thing about the van was that it fit a lot of us. We're talking BFL, Sissy, Rejuba, YogaHippy, Freckles, Quintomom, and me.

So, one night BFL, Sissy, and I were hanging out, jumping on the trampoline and wasting time when this crazy girl came over and basically kidnapped BFL's younger brother (I think he may have been 17 at the time.)

We weren't going to stand for that, but it was late and Match and Papa were sleeping. We didn't want to wake them up with something as silly as, "Can we take the car to find BFL's brother?"

Instead, we put it in neutral, pushed it out of the carport, started it up and headed into town. I really don't know how long we were gone, but it didn't seem like very long to me.

However, when we returned Match was standing in the carport in her nightgown with BFL's mom and they DID. NOT. Look. Happy.

We pulled into the carport, got of the car and the proverbial shit hit the fan!

Match was yelling the F-word (I think it was the first time I ever heard her use it.) BFL's dad apparently got in his car and went looking for us. (Kind of silly considering we lived in the middle of nowhere and there was no telling where we would have gone.) They were all worried, what if something happened, blah, blah, blah. This was in the time before cell phones.

Match was yelling like we'd never heard her yell before. Sissy and I went into the laundry room (which was not attached to the house) for some reason and we lost BFL. Assuming she went home we ran into our house and got into our beds fully dressed. I'm pretty sure we even had shoes on.

We were laying there, pretending to be asleep, when Match opened our bedroom door and in an angry voice said, "Have you seen BFL?" We said that we didn't know where she was and Match said, "Well if you see her, tell her that her mom is looking for her."

I don't know what Sissy was thinking, but I was thinking It is unlikely that I'm going to see her, I am going to stay in this bed, in these clothes, until I think you have calmed down. If I have to stay here for 3 weeks, so be it. (Match is very scary when she's angry.)

About five minutes after Match left, we hear a strange noise coming from our closet.

The closet in our room was not quite a walk-in, but it was close. It was also full of the clothing, shoes, and other belongings of two and half teenage girls - it was not a safe place to be in the dark.

We lay there a little longer and then we hear it again.

It sounded like a baby kitten was in our closet.

So Sissy and I get out of bed and open the closet door to find BFL stuck in the corner.

It turns out that when we ran to the laundry room, she ran to the closet and was trying to hide when she tripped over a suitcase or something and then got stuck.

I can't remember if she got out of the closet and went home to face her mom, but I do know that we never "borrowed" the van again without permission.

And BFL's brother made it home safe.

But he still has a thing for attracting crazy broads!

And you NEVER. I repeat, NEVER. Want to meet an angry Match.mom in the carport in her nightgown.

If you get there, light a fire in the house, it'll be easier to deal with.

(Just kidding, Match. I love you!)