Impressed with his parents' ability to make the name "Derek" even more basic.

YES. Mine likes to run down the stairs and then DEAD STOP. I swear he knows what he's doing.

The running joke in my house is that my headstone will read "Bert stopped midway" since my dog LOVES to walk underfoot on the stairs and also constantly stop and check to make sure I'm still following. sigh.

I recently accidentally kicked my cat too...the guilt afterwards was intense. He was given many treats as compensation.

My dog is not blind, just a dummy who likes to walk DIRECTLY behind me and frequently gets clocked when I lift my back heel off the ground to then place it in front of my other foot. You know, normal walking.

When I was about four (just old enough to have a vague recollection of the event), my mom and I were in Target. I had just started to learn Spanish from my mom and Sesame Street and I was quite proud of myself. Naturally, being the people-pleaser that I was, when I saw a Hispanic family, I wanted them to know how…

My parents didn't realize how creepy I was until I was about five and didn't have any friends and started writing depressing poetry about how I was going to kill myself. I had serious depression and anxiety issues even as a very young child, and was very unpopular. I was told by all of my teachers that I was too smart…

That's actually pretty cute. My parents didn't encourage my creepyness, I was just born that way. They actually told me to tone down my vocab when I started school because they were afraid other kids wouldn't like me.

That's awesome. I started reading when I was two, and my parents had these endangered species rummy cards that we would use as flash cards to expand my vocabulary. When I was three, we were at the zoo and people were oohing and aahing and talking about antelope and I corrected them by saying "those aren't antelope.…

I'm super impressed that you created that out of kitchen materials at seven years old. Impressed and jealous at your creative genius.

that is fucking beautiful, all of it.

That is an adorable story. And I think that art was totally frame worthy.

Was anyone else one of those uber-sensitive kids who ascribed feelings to their toys and stuffed animals? I used to play with all of my toys on a rotation because I was afraid of hurting their feelings. I kind of did that with my clothes too - I would feel guilty if I didn't wear my red shirt for a while because I was…

As a seven year old, I raided the kitchen for my art supplies. I took some herbs, green food coloring, lemon juice, and turmeric powder to create this. My dad was so angry at me for destroying the kitchen and geting half the spice cabinet all over the floor, but he took this, and he framed it because he thought it was…

I was a creepy child, as in I was bad at socializing and I knew too many words. Essentially, I was a very small old person who read encyclopedias and watched daytime television. I was also bald (which my mom tried to cover with tiny hats) for the first few years of life to complete the picture.

I have a few.

I was 8 years old when I went into my parent's bedroom one morning while my parents were still asleep and saw my Dad had a boner. I totally freaked out, woke my Mom up by dragging her out of the bed, and called 911 because I thought it was a chestburster from Aliens.

In the fourth grade, I got a "think sheet" for not doing homework or something, which I was supposed to take home to my parents to sign. I had already had one that semester, including one for stealing candy from a teacher that got me whipped with a belt (it was my rebellious year), and I didn't want my parents to know…

Once you beat someone senseless with DUMBELLS IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILDREN you should have no rights to those children or any of their family members ever.

Uh, fuck you. Lots of terrible people do terrible things. Unfortunately that doesn't automatically terminate their parental rights. While maybe it should, that's a debate for another time. My concern here is for the mom and the fact that she's being forced to interact with the person who harmed her. His kids are still…