More Childhood Memories That Scarred Me For Life

The original “Childhood Memories That Scarred Me For Life” can be found here.

I didn’t wind up wasting my days maintaining a website that nobody reads because things went the right way in my life. Here’s another psychological scab I will now pick for your amusement.

Thanks to the aforementioned Internet, I’m sure there’s no longer a period of time where kids are innocent to the ways of amore. Words like “prolapsed rectum” are probably fodder for their kindergarten spelling tests. (Ladies, if you never want a bf to bug you about anal again, click that link. It’s actually safe for work.) But in my youth, I had no clue where babies came from. I knew a mom was involved, as was a dad, but I was lost beyond that. My hypothesis was that two parents hugged each other for a while and, if they were in love, voilà, baby! All of that changed with the arrival of my pet gerbils, whom I christened Jessica and Joe Montana.

It all happened so quickly. Joe and Jessica seemed very happy-go-lucky, playing all sorts of games like “Chew the Toilet Paper Tube” and “Look Really Cute Running Around In Our Plastic Gerbil Globes.” Then, one day, Joe invented a new game, one that I didn’t quite understand the point of. It involved getting behind Jessica and what seemed like repeatedly attempting to jump over her, except he could never quite make the leap. At the same time Jessica was squealing from what I could only assume the pain of the game, and so I’d swat Joe away whenever he attempted to play.

Well, Joe must have been sneaking in a few rounds of play while I slept, because, before long, I was wondering why Jessica was getting so fat and sleeping non-stop. Then came the magic day when, out of nowhere (well, out of Jessica’s rodent vagina), eight baby gerbils filled the cage. I was astonished. How had this happened? Had my gerbils undergone called fission like amoebas? When had they even fallen in love in order to make these babies?

Then, with a shudder, the horrible truth dawned on me: Joe had never been trying to jump over Jessica. Not by a long shot. My innocence, mortally wounded, drifted to the ground like a butterfly whose wings had been touched. Before long, I learned about even more gerbil games, like “Frantically Bury My Young In Wood Chips Only to Dig Them Up And Eat Them” and “Joe’s Going In a Separate Cage With His Sons So He Doesn’t Impregnate His Daughters.” Man is life godawful.