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Friday, July 11, 2014

2 Off Label Uses For A Crown Royal Bag

Whenever my Dad and his friends got together on special occasions they always liked to drink Crown. I know this not only because one of them spiked my Coke with it at a party when I was sixteen, but because my Dad let me have one of the left over bags because I thought it was pretty. I would sit for hours and admire the plush purple bag and imagine it was filled with rainbows. I used to keep my plastic My Little Pony horses in it until I had too many to fit in there and then would keep my doll accessories such as tiny plastic hairbrushes and tiny plastic Barbie pumps that never seemed to stay popped onto her tiny deformed feet.

I truly enjoyed the silly antics of those parties with the smell of Crown in the air and laughter bouncing from room to room.

Crown has brought some other funny memories in my life as well.

My dad moved in with this woman briefly after my parents separated and her young son and I adopted each other as siblings. Being a helpful older sister, I was tasked with helping him unpack his bedroom. I noticed he had the same Crown bag in his dresser that I did. I got all excited and told him about all my adventures with hiding toys in the bag.  Suddenly I was four years old again instead of fifteen and for some reason thought an eleven year old boy would be interested in my genius storage solution.

After I prattled on like a dork, I asked, "So what's in your bag?"

He opened it and showed me. It was condoms.  Dozens of condoms. 

I looked him in the eye and we laughed hysterically. 

"My sister visits every week and every time she visits she gives me a box."

What in the world would an eleven year old boy possibly need with that many condoms at his age?

Sometimes when our parents would leave on a date leaving me to babysit, we would dare each other to break out the condoms and try to make water balloons. This is what we did when we weren't doing homework, playing Mortal Kombat, or annoying each other to death. We did this until we moved to the new place.  His new bedroom had a ceiling fan and we did not need to make water balloons anymore as it was much more hilarious to slingshot the condoms at the ceiling fan and watch them ping all over the place.  This was the funniest thing ever.

Many deep conversations were had while pinging condoms at the ceiling fan about what boys and girls we liked that week and how bored we were. There was a lot of Elmer's glue, candle wax, microscopes, double dog dares, and just absolute boredom on those weekends.

Sadly, weeks after we moved to the new place his mother passed away suddenly and months later he stopped living with my Dad and moved in with his father. After we scattered his mother's ashes at the lake, I never saw him again.  I had to move in with my Dad for a short while during college to make ends meet and I had that same bedroom and every once in a while I would find a broken dried up condom laying randomly around. I talk to him online every now and then I keep meaning to ask him if he's going to teach his kids the wonders of the condom slingshot. 

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