Sadly, My Superpowers Have Faded

14 07 2011

Y’all who have been around for a while remember my love of the Reader’s Digest, right? If you’re new to these parts and are unaware of my adoration of this magnificent publication and its paranoia-inducing headlines, click on over and give it a read.

This month my love is magnified by the fact that the Reader’s Digest not only has a fantastic main headline (sure to send you scurrying for your water purification tablets), it also has an article that reminds me of an incident from my childhood that now feel obligated to share with you.

I was too lazy to scan the cover, so you get this crappy cell phone picture.

You might find this hard to believe, but I was a bit…erm…cocky as a kid. Shut up. I said as a kid.


I was also an enormous tattle-tale. Fortunately, this does not seem to be any sort of litmus test of future character development, as every child I’ve ever met is similarly afflicted.

Anyway, one Sunday I was at my Primary class and it was time for the prayer. For some reason the class members stood in a circle (I have no idea why) and some other kid said the prayer. When it was over, I said, “Sister Jones! Billy didn’t close his eyes during the prayer!”

“Jenny,” she said gently, “How would you know that unless your eyes were open too?”

Wait for it…

“I can see through my eyelids.”

My parents tried to mask my abilities as best they could.

The best part of this story is I actually believed it. Delusions of grandeur aren’t actually diagnosable in an elementary school-aged child, right?

I wish I could remember the teacher’s response, but it was probably something really boring like “Oh, really?”

As an adult I’ve come to the realization that all children are pathological liars. “Did you take the last cookie?” “No, mom!” the child answers, as he wipes chocolate off his face, yet he’s convinced himself it’s true. My children are hilariously bad liars, and I’m going to enjoy it while I can. I dread the day that they’re able to successfully lie to me, because that’s when I’ll have to start beating the truth out of them.

I’m kidding. Probably.

I would've been Professor Xavier's most gifted student if not for those bastard surgeons!

*Sometime I should really tell you the story behind this picture.

**(Hint: children ought not run whilst holding pencils.)

***You just winced, didn’t you?

****Is it just me, or is there a scary-ass clown on the Christmas tree behind me?

*****No, I don’t know what I’m holding there.

******It is not a dildo.




3 responses

14 07 2011
Mama P

The clown is creepy, and it kinda looks like your holding a flute? I LOL at your story, I can imagine being the teacher and having a child say that, I think I’d find it hard not to just giggle in front of the other children.

My 3 year old is just starting to hold real conversations and I’ve noticed alot of unintentional lying! Sometimes its not so great but othertimes it is downright hilarious.

14 07 2011
Alex Gray

Yes! Kids are definitely natural born liars, and it’s fantastic that they are RUBBISH at it… long may it continue!

14 07 2011

Love that last picture 🙂
Thanks for another snort laugh inducing post.

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