Pop-Tart and Cup-o-Noodle Habit

Now that I've been shamed by the realization that I have not posted for a whole YEAR, my guilt has inspired me to take a new tack. Previously, I obsessed over each blog post, wanting to get everything just right. This had the predictable result of many half finished and unpublished blog posts. (This is exactly what happened to my Weight Watchers goals too, but that's another story. The only difference is I can guarantee that I used ALL of my weight watchers points).

Anyway, rather than try to come up with new and interesting things that happen in the family, I'll be switching it up and recapping some golden oldies. Kids harnessing goats to a wagon, me chewing on a live electrical wire, my sister and I starting a wildfire... you know, things like that. Some may say this is phoning it in. It may be. If you are unamused by the product, please, feel free to send me hate mail... or a pie. You decide.

With that out of the way, I give you the first in a long line of "What the hell was she thinking?!"

Pop-Tart and Cup-o-Noodle Habit

So... when Lauren and I were 16 or so, we didn't have much money. We were working at Wendy's, saving up for another round of cold cereal and milk that we stashed in the trunk.

This was the liberty laden chariot of kings.

We needed this cereal for our "days off", which consisted of dropping off Cassidy and Aarel at school, almost driving to High School, and, deciding we just couldn't do school that day, drive to the waterfront, pull out the ambrosia of Malt-o-Meal Captain Crunch, and listen to our renegade classical music while watching the sun come up.

The sweet panacea of ditching class

These anti-attendance activities consumed gas. Lots of it. And it wasn't even $4.00 a gallon yet. Still, these truant tendencies required additional funding and we rose to the challenge.

Enter our note forgery business.

We hadn't done a 5-day school week since May 6, 1996 (the day Lauren and I got our drivers license), so Lauren and I had become very good at making our own attendance notes. I had been studying handwriting analysis for 4 years at this point and knew quite a bit about questioned document examination. We started fabricating notes for the most derelict of our high school friends and word spread rather quickly. Before long Lauren and I could count on a crowd of odd piercings and goth clothing gathering around our table every morning, clamoring for their "appointment." We charged $1.00 a note and each note came with a a short instructional session on how to present their note to the attendance office, handle automated calls home, escape school grounds undetected, and other tactics to cut school effectively.

This income was off the books, nontaxable, and most importantly, cold hard cash. We were able to use our legitimate income to fuel the 1973 Dodge Dart, thus using the forgery business to fund less savory (or more salacious, depending on your perspective) habits. The school store sold many things at overinflated, movie theater prices. Being that we had no such goodies at home to compete with said store, the cup-o-noodle/pop tart breakfast became standard fare.

In the interest of maintaining trade secrets, I won't be detailing our ditching secrets here. If you would like a private session, please contact me and we can negotiate payment.

I prefer Shrimp Cup-o-Noodle and Strawberry Pop-Tarts.