Daycare Stories

Oh, hello my geeks and peeps, my explainers and entertainers, my little oodlallies. Rebecca Parham here. So, did you know I was a daycare kid? Probably not, because I've never mentioned it before. Makes sense, given that mom and dad were both working parents, and leaving one's infant at home alone is generally considered problematic. Now I know it might be hard to believe, but I haven't always been the pinnacle of refinement and maturity that you see before you today. No, no. As a kid, I was a bit of a rascal. For example, the box story. Now at this daycare, we had a big playroom, and in this playroom, there was a dark little alcove where custodial stuff and equipment was kept all the time, and one morning during playtime, I noticed someone had left a large box there. Big enough for a child to hide behind. Now there's a concept that I call kid logic, and it's basically just a name for that randomness that kids possess, or the absurdity that is their reasoning sometimes. For example, when I saw that box, that's when my kid logic kicked in, and I said, I'm going to hide behind that box for as long as possible and see what happens. This is a great idea. So when the adults weren't looking, I slunk behind the box and crouched down, hiding myself entirely. I must have stayed there for half an hour before playtime ended, and they ushered all the kids away to a different room for a new activity. And funny enough, the adults were none the wiser. I was gone. I've beat the system. Now this is what gets me. It took an hour of me hiding before an adult came back to the room and visibly began looking around for something. Couldn't imagine what it might be. Now where did I leave that small child? Must be around here someplace. I peeked my head up over the edge of the box to watch, but that proved to be my undoing. I was spotted. I've been compromised. I got in big trouble for that, of course. I was clearly not good at getting away with things when I was a kid, as you'll see in the next story. Now one time at this daycare, they brought in a whiteboard, and you were only allowed to draw on it with adult supervision. Okay, I won't draw on the board. Instead, I stole a green dry erase marker when no one was looking and proceeded to decorate my face. Hey, listen, I didn't break the rules. They specifically said don't draw on the board. They said nothing about my face. I put the marker back and walked away, but was promptly spotted by an adult. Becca, did you do this to yourself? No. Did somebody do this to you? Yes. Who did it? Well, sheesh, I hadn't thought I had that far. And I honestly didn't even think to blame another kid. Instead, that good old kid logic kicked in, and I came up with the most foolproof story that was sure to get my hide out of trouble. I was minding my own business looking for something to play with, and then the markers came over and marked on my face. Nailed it. I will never understand how that daycare worker kept a straight face, but off to timeout I went. So, what are you in for? Disrupting the status quo? Whoa, I stuck gum up my nose. Something I haven't mentioned yet is that my sister Rachel also went to this daycare, and because she's two years older than me, she got to be in the big kids program called the superstars, and I was so jealous that I took to calling them the stupid stars. Extra crispy on that burn there, little Becca. But one thing that will always be a significant memory to me is the day I discovered that the superstars had a Nintendo. Better yet, they had Super Mario Brothers. And that, my little oodle lollies, was the first time I ever saw a console video game. I thought I was looking at magic. And that became the only thing I ever wanted to do at playtime, was go over to the big kid area and watch them play Super Mario Brothers. Don't you dare tell me that gamers aren't real entertainers. I was watching people play video games long before the pliers and septic eyes and deep eyes of the world made it a thing. But when playtime was over, the daycare staff had to pry me away, kicking and screaming from that TV set. One day, however, I came up with a brilliant idea. When they pulled me away from the big kids corner and sat me down with the other little kids, I proceeded to scream and cry that I miss my big sister, and nothing was gonna console me except being allowed to be with her in the big kid area. I guess the adults didn't know what else to do, so they actually let me go back over. Holy Crayola, that actually worked. Sure enough, I made a beeline for the Nintendo. Screw you, sis, I got video games to observe. It didn't take long for an adult to catch on, and I was eventually pulled away again. When I tried the same shtick, they gently said, Becca, you say you miss your sister, but every time you go over there, you just watch them play video games. Okay, maybe they had me there. I'm not gonna lie, that's a pretty solid accusation. Alright, grown-up, I'll concede to you this time. But one day, I'll be grown-up, and I'll watch all the video games I want. Don't you mean play them? No. Now, I've saved the best story for last. Even when I started kindergarten, there was no escaping this daycare, because one of the services they provided was picking up children from my elementary school and taking them back to the daycare where the parents could pick them up later. So every day, I didn't get picked up by a parent or get on a normal yellow school bus, I waited for a big white van. That sounds rather nefarious now that I say it out loud. But yeah, Rachel and I would wait for the van, pile in with the other kids, and go wait to get picked up at the daycare. And this was a routine my kindergarten teacher knew. She was a very good teacher and kept track of the way each of her students were supposed to go home. So she would make sure I got in that van. Well, I was getting a little bored of the routine. And here's good old kid logic again, because many of my classmates would get to walk home. And for some reason, I decided that was the cool thing to do. I aspired to walk home. But that wasn't gonna happen with Miss Responsibility Pants botching my whole operation. So like the little devil I was, I waited until we had a substitute teacher. Alright, here's your evil genius learner's permit, kiddo. When school ended that day, instead of getting into the daycare van, I hid behind a brick pillar and waited for the van to leave without me. Funny how my sister never said anything. She must have been like, alright, I guess she died. As soon as the van left, I headed off on foot. My house was within walking distance, only about a mile away. But I began to think as I walked, that no one was actually going to be at the house, and I had no way of getting inside. Probably should have thought of that before. So instead of walking home, I made the executive decision to walk to the daycare instead. Now I knew, I knew what I was doing was against the rules, because every single time I saw a white vehicle of any sort coming in the distance, I would duck behind a tree or bush as fast as I could. When I was so close that I could see the daycare up ahead, I noticed what was most definitely a white van approaching. And the only tree immediately available was thinner than me. So not only was this tree already insufficient at hiding me, but when I jumped behind it, I didn't think to put the tree between me and the line of sight of the van. So when the daycare staff approached, this is what they saw. I'm revoking that evil genius learner's permit. They stopped the van, made me get inside, and guess who I found in the back seat? The snitch that ratted me out. My own sister. How could you? We were brothers, you and I. Wait. And that is just a handful of examples of what a little monster I was. I talked to my sister about this script, and she came up with even more stories about this daycare, so if you guys like this video, then maybe there'll be another one in the future. Who knows? All right, have fun out there, Oodlallies, and avoid white vans. Thank you so much for tuning in, but now I gotta tune out. Bye!