I Was An Asshole 

“Mom, are you watching me do this really cool thing?!”

I was a strange, precocious child. I was the kid that makes every teacher silently mouth, “What the fuck” several times a day. I never stopped talking. I also did weird, inquisitive things, and I said, probably, thirty times a day, “Mom, watch me do this!” I was annoying with a capital unbearable. 

I recently shared a memory on Facebook about a time when I was envious of the dog’s dinner. I’ll just share a screenshot:

If it was ever any wonder where I got my random weirdness from, I think the mystery has been solved. When I shared this memory the other day with my mom, this is what she said:

“Oh, I thought canned dog food looked really good, too. In fact, back when I was a kid, they put barley in it and it looked almost exactly like beef and barley soup, before the water was added. So, um, I would eat it.”

Along with salivating over the disgusting can of wet dog food, I would also sneak butter. Half of the stick of butter would be missing from the butter dish all the time. I would escape to the hall closet with my prize, and it was usually blamed on my dad. Win!

I think this is a testament as to why I’m weird and fat. 

So, this random smell-induced memory led me on a nostalgic trip down memory lane about all of the weird things I did as a kid. 

Care to hitch a ride? 

1. I was fascinated by penises at an early age. 

I was quickly barred from bathing with my boy cousin when we were just innocent babes, because whenever they put us together in a bathtub, I thought his little member must have been a fun pull toy. His little face would be in agony and his eyes big as saucers, and they’d realize pervy baby Katie had her fist clenched over his pee pee again. 

My dad stopped taking me places solo, because inevitably I’d have to go to the bathroom (I used to have to visit the bathroom at every single place we went to-creepy, random gas station and all), and, obviously, he couldn’t let a young child go in the restroom by themselves. So, I’d have to accompany him in the mens’ room. That was a recipe for disaster from the get-go. 

After I did my thing, he needed to use the restroom too. He told me to stand in one place, where he could see my feet as he was in the stall. Almost immediately after he closed the stall door, my feet disappeared. 

Where did he find me? 

On hands and knees, under the urinals, staring up at the men using them. 

To this day, I still pray they just didn’t see the little girl with stark black pigtails under the urinal when they unleashed their no-nos. 

That was my first adult penis, I just didn’t know it at the time. 

My dad was appalled and stopped taking me anywhere, other than the drive thru, by himself from that day forward. 

2. I was way too interested in urinals (obviously). 

When I was a toddler, up until I started Kindergarten, I went to a daycare called, Thumpers. When it was potty time, they would line up the boys and girls in separate lines. Even then, at such young ages, the girls took twice as long as the boys. As such, they would have to let the girls start going in the boys’ bathroom, or the girls would be in the line for the restroom all day. I always volunteered, or I would push myself to the front of the line, so I could go to the boys’ bathroom. I was always so jealous that they got to stand up to pee, and use such a strange apparatus to do so. 

Well, one day, a kid pooped in the urinal. Since I had pushed my way into the boys’ bathroom that day, I got to see the offending excrement with my own two eyes. I immediately ratted out my cousin (the same poor kid who almost got his weiner ripped off by yours truly). 

I had no obvious proof, but it had to be him. 

Still, to this day, I swear it was him, only now he punches me and holds me on the ground with his giant Popeye arms. It’s kind of scary. I never learn. 

3. I had really fun bad ideas. 

Speaking of Thumpers, it was there that I did the only truly naughty thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. 

One of my favorite teachers was this older lady named, Doris. She was so nice and fair. I really don’t know why I chose her as my victim.  

One day, as she was putting my lunchbox in the refrigerator and I was just standing there, right behind her, twirling a thumbtack between my thumb and pointer finger, I did it. 
Let me explain a little better. I was following her a little too closely, and when she bent to squeeze my lunchbox into the fridge, her ass was just millimeters from my face. And I had a tack.

 So, I did it. 

I stuck the tack deep into her rump. 

I really don’t know why I felt that was a good idea, because I spent literally all day in time out. It was then that I realized being bad did not pay off. 

They see me rollin’.

4. I had a loud speaking voice.

My mom’s second favorite story to tell about me involves penises (again), my favorite soda, and KFC. 

I was pretty young when this happened, so it’s still thought of as a cute, kids-will-say-the-darnedest-things-outburst. 

We went out for a special dinner at the local KFC (we didn’t go out much. Not because we were super poor, but because it wasn’t the thing back then to eat out all the time). I was very adamant about making sure I got what I wanted all the time, especially when we ate out. I think I told my mom thirty times that I wanted Dr. Pepper, but I was still afraid she maybe missed hearing me somehow. 

As my mom went up to the counter to order, from across the busy, family-filled restaurant, came my booming voice, because I had to make sure… 

“Mom, I’ll have a Dr. Pecker!!” 

I couldn’t properly pronounce “pepper” and due to the urgency of the matter (she might have accidentally gotten me water-gasp), that’s how it came out. 

I’m always sure to embarrass, still to this day. 

“I’ll have the penis soda!”

5. My surprised reaction was (is) a loud, “whoa!

As we’ve learned, it was always a crap shoot taking me anywhere. I might shout “penis!” in a quiet library, or maybe I’d be lost and then found on the ground of a restroom, staring up at a man’s taint. You never knew, and I think that was the real danger that was being around me as a child. 

Around the same time that the “Dr. Pecker” incident occurred, I struck again. Why my parents took me anywhere was beyond me. 

I was never shy about pointing out painfully embarrassing things about people and things. I was a real asshole. So, the fact that the #1 embarrassing Katie story occurred at a buffet, is almost too obvious. It’s almost like my parents wanted me to shout to someone random, clear across the room, “Why do you have red dots all over your face?!”

After nervously scouting the entire restaurant, my mom was cautiously optimistic about where we were seated. It appeared there was no one around us that stood out in any real, obvious way. 

She was able to relax for precisely two minutes.

Then, of course, I needed to use the restroom, which was obviously on the opposite side of the restaurant. 

The trip to the bathroom was uneventful. Then, my mom saw them. 

They were immense. I want to say they took up several chairs between the two of them. My mom knew her jerk of a kid would say something mortifying. 

She did everything she could to keep my attention away from them during the trip back, but I turned to look behind me. 

And, just like that, all of my mom’s efforts were in vain. 


It reverberated off the ceramic dishes and cheap metal cutlery. It made a ripple effect in the lumpy gravy at the buffet stand. A tacky reproduction of The Birth of Venus fell off the wall. It was heard by the entire restaurant. 

I’ll just skip to the part where I had to apologize to the couple, even though I didn’t know that what I had done was wrong. My mother’s only wish was that they thought my “whoa” was in reaction to their oxygen tanks, and not their behemoth size. 

I think these stories of what an utter embarrassment and pain in the ass I was is likely why I don’t think I want kids. I know my karma comes in the form of a deceptively cute, but terrifyingly mortifying child. I’ll just pass on that, thanks. 

I was so cute, being the center of attention-always…

Author: fattymccupcakes

Just a thirty-something girl trying to love herself the way she is: fat, rolls, cellulite, and fabulousness.

78 thoughts on “I Was An Asshole ”

  1. So when I was little, maybe three according to my parents, we were waiting for the waitress forever and my dad whispered to my mom, “what the hell do you have to do to get a beer in this joint?” Wait for it. You know it’s coming.
    So I apparently stood up on the bench and shouted “What the hell do you have to do to get a beer in this joint?”
    My dad says a beer appeared immediately. LOL

    Liked by 4 people

      1. Also, I am reminded of a story my husband likes to tell about when he was in kindergarten. The teacher was saying something about nuts and bolts, or maybe about how squirrels eat nuts. Something like that. My husband — in kindergarten mind you! — starts raucously laughing and very loudly goes “Nuts!! Get it? NUTS!” Apparently he was a child with a perverted sense of humor.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Omg that was the best thing ever to read! I wish I had stories like that. I just have the regular “I would sit and wave at people until they would wave at me” stories. I guess I needed attention? But it did work out in my parent’s favour – once, as a young tot of no more than 2, and the most adorable little ginger you ever laid eyes on, I befriended the restaurant manager who spent all his time talking to me and waving at me and my family all got free desserts 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  3. WHOA!!!!! Hahaha I loved this, your penis obsession though 😂😂😂
    I too was a pain in the ass kid, I’m not sure why my mother didn’t just leave me somewhere, I would have!
    I love when my Mum tells my sisters and I stories about how we embarrassed her when we were younger!

    The best one was when my little sister was 3, her first day of pre-school, the teacher was reading a story about a cute little bunny to all the kids and my sister was sat there with her hand up wanting to speak the whole time, when the story was finished and the teacher asked her what she wanted to say she said ‘My Uncle shot that bunny and we had it for dinner!’ Every kid in the place started crying and my Mum just stood there mortified pretending that the sicko kid wasn’t hers!

    I totally get the tack thing, her ass was right there and the rack was in your hand, why wouldn’t you?! 😂

    Thanks for the laugh xo

    Liked by 1 person


    I wore those plastic rings as bracelets, too….I’m sure I had a few outbursts but the one I remember the most was writing all over my 4th grade homework helpful thought bubbles like “why do I need to learn this” and “this is useless” and “we’d learn better if you were nicer to us” Mom got a note…which she laughed at as she wadded up and pitched. (She hated that teacher, can ya tell?)

    Liked by 1 person

  5. LOL!!!!! Thank you for the hilarious, fantastic read! I am an ex-public school teacher, so I can just about imagine the tack thing! I’m sure that teacher as told and re-told that story again and again. BTW, my younger brother loved eating sticks of butter!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. I think I read this once before but I STILL ended up laughing out loud and surprising my cat. He is now giving me cat death stares. If I am cat-murdered, it’s your fault okay!?

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Hey, You and I are/were a lot alike. My dog was fed Gaines Burgers and I used to race her to the food dish, plus, I used to always put my fingers in the butter (I still love butter) bit, now I use a spoon. Oh, and the restroom thing..I also have used most every restroom ever. That was my moms thing. I guess you could say I picked up that weird habit from her.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Oh my God, I haven’t laughed this hard in a LONG time!! Everything … so freaking good! The thumbtack … holy crap….!
    My best friend and I loved butter so much during high school that we got the nicknames Butterhead and Butterhead II. Yes… infamy!

    Liked by 1 person

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