The Kool-Aid Kid

Oh, man. Came across this picture a minute ago and can’t stop laughing. Christ, until I was 12 I’m pretty sure I drank Kool-Aid every single day, all day. As proof I had a permanent Kool-Aid stain above my upper lip. The mix of cherry/grape/orange is an interesting color, and does not help you out as much with the ladies as one might think. Of course, at that age I guess I wasn’t thinking of girls, but of…well, Kool-Aid. The spots above and below my lips were an exciting place to be in the early 80’s: not only was the upper spot the home of my Kool-Aid tattoo, but the spot below my bottom lip was permanently gnashed in with my teeth marks. Whenever my brother would anger me (which is constantly when you’re that close in age and pretty much spend every waking moment together), I’d instinctively clamp down on that spot and dig in with my overbite as I charged him. I’d be WHITE HOT with fury as my little-man fists would start wailing; I’d actually sometimes get the better of these fights because my brother would be laughing so hard at how ridiculous I looked, with my teeth clamped down almost on my chin and eyes raging with utter anger. After a few minutes of laughing he’d take care of business, but boy. I must’ve been a sight. I believe I inherited this anger-clampdown method from my mother. Many was the time I’d hafta get an ass-whuppin - I was one of those kids that simply could not go to bed unless I had gotten a spanking that day; as I’m bent over awaiting the sting of leather against my (then) bony ass, I’d make the mistake of looking back at my mother, and SHE’D have that tooth clampdown going on and, like my brother with me, I’d start laughing. Which, of course, would INFURIATE my mother – the one thing in the world you can do to piss of someone giving you an ass-whooping is to start laughing. So instead of getting the ol’ “you fucked up, I gotta spank you, lets get this over with etc” whooping, I’d get the “Is this fucking kid LAUGHING at me while I beat his ass?! Oh, laugh at THIS, motherfucker!!!!” whooping. I never learned – don’t fucking look back! It will only make you laugh! Ah well. Memories.