Now where was I? I said my memory is outstanding. Not my focus. Pay attention, folks. Oh, yea. My semi photographic memory. It really is. My first memory is from when I was 2ish. I randomly decided that my new word for milk was "Lupe". No one could figure out what I wanted. And let me tell you, that shit. Pissed. Me. Off. I still, to this day, get a little pissy just thinking about it.
Every now and then, though, someone reminds me of some utterly useless information that I actually DID
HORNED. HUMAN. SKULLS.
That's not a typo. You read that right. I said "horned", not "horny". Get your mind out of the gutter for a minute. Human skulls with horns were supposedly found here back in the 1800's. The short version of the legend, because I'm just going to assume that the actual story about giants with horns strutting around the neighborhood I grew up in over a thousand years before my fabulous ass got spanked into this world is much less interesting than what I have to say about it, is this:
Over a century ago, some really boring people found many human skulls that some even more boring scientists with nothing better to do determined lived here about 1000 years ago. And the skulls had horns.2 horns to be exact. Oh, and the horny people were giants. The remains got stolen from the museum a few years later.....blah, blah, blah.
(You can read the full story here, but, trust me, my version's better: http://www.viewzone.com/hornedskull.html)
Back to me. How do I, of all people, block something like that out?!?! Fuck it. I left decades ago and developed "Mom Brain" along the way. Anyway, I had totally forgotten that folklore piece of local history that my father used to incessantly beat into our brains growing up. In all fairness, though, he never actually told us the whole story. Just the part where they found Devil Skulls about a mile from where we lived. And "legend had it" that those giant freaks were going to hunt down and sacrifice whiny little brats naughty kids who didn't behave.
Thanks for the memories, Dad!!!
Anyway, upon being reminded of this piece of personal nostalgia, I did what any nontraditional parent would do. I tried to use it to my advantage. Make the kiddos suffer the same nightmares. Teach the kiddos about local history. But with one fatal flaw.
I forgot the minor detail about how those warnings Never. Worked. On. Me. You see, I have ALWAYS loved all things crazy twisted psycho abnormal. And the kiddos are more obsessed than their momma ever was at that age!! The way my kiddos await the Zombie Apocalypse, scary shit, and all the things I look forward to take with a grain of salt, I should have known that they would embrace the idea of Devil Skulled People secretly watching from the hilltop. Hell, they even considered it a challenge to FIND them. Hunt them down and go all Ghostbusters Proton Pack on their asses. (I have to admit, their plan was probably fool proof, but, alas, I'd probably get in trouble for letting young children camp out alone in the middle of the woods.)
So now I can only hope that whatever memory-y parts of my DNA that make me remember random stuff failed to get passed on, and they will soon forget about the one time Ithreatened them with told them this story. Because, as much as I've tried to backtrack and tell them that, as much as I tried, the Devil Skulled People never came to take me away....they are determined to pull off what I was never able to do. And I'm not really patient enough to wait for their own "Parent-Brain-Memory-Loss" to occur.
So now I can only hope that whatever memory-y parts of my DNA that make me remember random stuff failed to get passed on, and they will soon forget about the one time I
