All factors that are probably why I may or may not be a little crazy

My parents used to tell me that if I snuck downstairs on Christmas Eve and saw Santa Claus, he'd throw pepper in my eyes.  My mother denies this, but she said it.

My mom keeps tomatoes on the kitchen window sill.  I was probably 4 when this happened.  I took a tomato off the sill and took a bite out of it and put it back.  When the wrath of Satan rained down upon me my parents approached me about the incident, I told them that our cocker spaniel must have done it.  I was 4.

Once, I spilled a cup of milk on the carpet, but caught it halfway and only 1/2 actually spilled out.  My mom was so mad at me when she saw this occur that she grabbed the cup and poured the rest of it out on the carpet, screaming "Why didn't you just spill the whole cup?"

We all know how much my baby blanket means to me - at 27 years old, I still sleep with it every night.  When I got in trouble when I was younger, my parents would punish me by putting my baby blanket on top of the refrigerator, where I could see it but not get to it.  Pure torture.

My grandfather used to tell me stories.  You know the ones - "...I used to walk barefoot to school...in the snow...up hill...both ways."  He was also known for telling me one about how he encounted a bear on said walk, and fought the bear by reaching into its mouth with his bare hand and pulling his tail from the inside, subsequently turning the bear inside-out and defeating it.  My parents backed up this story.

They thought I was a boy until I was born.  My name for the first 3 days of my life, for all intents and purposes, was Justin Thomas.  I had a vagina and my name was Justin.  When the birth certificate people threatened my parents with C&U punishment 3 days later, I was given the name Kimberly Anne.  More fitting, I think.  I also had to wear boy clothes for the first 6 months of my life.  There are pictures of me in plaid.  I looked like a newborn lumberjack.

Recycling was all the rage when I was in elementary school.  Murdock got an aluminum can crusher that they made to look like a monster who would "eat cans" to promote this new fad, and our teachers asked all of us to start collecting cans to bring in to "feed to the Recycling Monster."  The big day arrived.  My parents gave me one can.  I'm sure it was a Tab can.  I stood in line, with the rest of my peers with their garbage bags full of cans, with my one Tab can.  I was mortified.

When my little sister was born, I was seven.  I'm pretty sure I hated loved her.   My mom asked me once to go check on Kelsey - I believe she was in her crib napping.  The baby, not my mother.  I took a marker and drew a giant check mark on Kelsey's head.  I think I also may have pressed down on her newborn soft spot while doing so, but that's debatable.

I got kicked out of the After School Program, for various [cough, bullshit, cough] reasons, I'm sure, 6 times during my elementary school tenure.  Actually, I think it may have been during one school year, but I digress...  The limit to getting kicked out before you're permanently removed from the program is 7 times.  I prefer to toe the line.