Hello Noon. And also, a story!

So I started writing a post a little bit ago about how I got drunk last night, woke up, had tea, burnt myself on said tea, and how I am currently watching blisters form on my fingers. Then I realized that post sucked.

SO!

I'm starting a new one.

::Ahem::

When I was a kid, I was a bit of pathological liar. I remember in the 5th grade we would have "Circle Time." In circle time, our teacher would pass out candy and start telling a story about her life, then she would have every kid, in turn, also tell a story about their life pertaining to a certain topic she picked. If you did not have a story, you did not get to sit in the circle, you did not get to have candy, and worst of all, you did not get to be the center of attention.

So what did my little ten-year-old brain do? It made stuff up, that's what.

One time, I assume the topic was "nature", but I have trouble remembering last week, let alone thirteen years ago, and all the kids were telling little stories about how they each found a caterpillar and their dog ate it. Or they once went to a farm and pet a cow.

Whoopty F-in Doo. (P.S. Screw you spell check, those are both words. I don't need none of your squiggly line bull shit!)

When one of my fellow classmates stepped down, my had was immediately in the air, waving around like it wanted to be free. My teacher graciously let me step up to the chair. I slowly, and dramatically took my seat, waiting the appropriate amount of time, then lunged into an epic yarn about my fathers and my journey through our woods one spring afternoon.

We got lost almost immediately, but lucky, since both of us are boy scouts (Yep, that's right) we knew that moss only grew on the *ahem* side of trees, and deer only travel this way, and the trickling of water means more undergrowth and berries to survive the night.

Eventually we found some semblance of shelter while we waited for the sun to rise again to guide us home. We slept under a great oak tree, whose limbs stretched over our entire forest, and roots that tangled with ever other growing thing in the forest (whore). Somehow after seeing that tree, we knew how to get home. And then we were home.

But my story didn't end there, I had them eating out of the palm of my hand. Save for my fifth grade teacher, she was already writing a letter to my parents. I knew I had to work fast, or she would steal my audience from me.

My father and I went back into the woods a few months later to find the tree. We followed the moss, the deer trail, and the rivers (Also there may have been something about bears, I'm a little fuzzy.) but we could not find our tree. Finally when the sun was starting to set, and we had just about given up hope we found her. What was left of her. Someone had come and cut her mighty self down to the ground, nothing but a steaming stump remained. (steaming stump? C'mon really! What is this, FernGulley?)

Weeping, both my father and I fell to our knees to morn the loss of our great savior. (the class was almost in tears, as was I.) After the tears ceased streaming from my eyes, I noticed a tiny little green stem sticking out of the stump. A seed had planted itself, and it began to grow.

And grow.

And grow, until it was just as big as it had once been!

The end.

I was met with raucous applause, while the teacher simultaneously tried to calm them down and figure out what to say to me.

This may have been the first instance I can remember of invented such an elaborate lie to gain the love and admiration of my peers, but it was definitely not the last. I just wanted to see how you liked this one, I'll post more if you liked it.

Skot/Scott