Not really unique but have it anyway. My child minder when I was in primary school was a little scary but I was never that bad. She would always keep me in line pretty well and was by all accounts pretty hard to piss off. She used to joke she would rinse my mouth out with soap if I ever swore around here, so I never EVER did. She was gold. I could be a little shit but not around her... respect was had. I loved Irene and her little dog, I always got treats and TV time on the grounds I wasn't out of order. I never was.
One day I was talking to her about my Dad taking me on a driving trip over the weekend, but there was a problem with the car and I said "dad said the car was buggered"
Irene flipped her motherfucking shit. Jesus was at the wheel of her brain and just got carjacked and his head blown off by Satan and he buckled the fuck up.
I was twatted round the back of the head so hard the back stroke of her swing hitting me in the front of the head on the return was like some voodoo shit. It felt like being in a head on crash with a cement mixing lorry and going through the glass while my head stayed perfectly still.
"Wha...what wa..."
Too late asshole. Grabbed by the ear that was twisted so hard even the blood shit itself and ran away, there was a bonfire on the side of my head yet I felt no ear, just a lump of burning pain.
I was at this point a shocked, snotty, wailing mess. I think my arse squeeked out a panic fart before puckering up in fear.
It was a hazy, teary eyed blur. My senses were replaced by pain, I was a ragdoll passenger in my own body. I made out the sink and a well used oval of soap was lathered before m... what the FUCK IT'S IN MY MOUTH. Jaw clamped shut by her hands. Catatonic. Am I die? What do. Young brain no understand. Halp.
For all I fucking know I was whisked up with Dorothy and Toto somewhere between the sink and front porch before finding myself arse first on the pavement.
I think I was in shock for about 10 years as a mild exaggeration but I had my little child's world of a snowglobe blown apart by a nuclear bomb delivered directly via my arsehole.
I asked my parents if "bugger" was swearing and was told yes but not something we'd tell you off for, maybe don't say it in school but it's ok. Irene never mentioned it again and was perfectly normal ever since. I was never the same when I went back, and reluctantly did so as it made me a nervous wreck.
Fuck you and all you stand for Irene. What the actual fuck.