Pandas, What Was The Worst Thing You Accidentally Did As A Kid?

This happened either 1998 or 1999 right before christmas. So me 8/9 years old, my little brother 4/5 years old.
Me and my little brother are in 2nd floor in our house, its small space. We got the grand idea of... "Blind man's buff" right next to the stairs.
We had to help my little brother with his christmas present that year.

And dont worry 'Blind man's buff' is forbidden in our household.

So one time I was like 10 or so and I had my friends over
(let's name them Mark and April.) I thought it would be a good idea to make my mom something to eat and my friend Mark suggested a fruit salad and I thought it was a great idea until I started using a sharp knife instead of a butter knife because I thought it would be faster. It was not faster. Instead it ended up being the reason of how I cut my hand. the blood started dripping down my hand and my friends were freaking out and I had no idea what to and so I went and put my hand in the sink. my mom found out my hand was bleeding and told my friends to go home. When asked what happened with my hand I told my mom that I got with scissors. she said she didn't believe me so I told the truth and I ended up getting grounded.

I put syrup in a standing electric heater. the kind with exposed heating elements behind a wire guard. i wanted it to smell like breakfast. it just smelled like burnt syrup.

When I was about 8 or 9 my momma had just seen all her family members and they obviously wanted a picture together so my momma asked me if i would help take a picture for all of them but(at the time my cousin had just had a baby and I was in love with it because he was so cute)and i ended up zooming the picture in and just taking a picture of the baby because I thought my mm would rather have a cute baby picture on her camera roll.After a while, they left and we started heading home.That night my mother went to go see the picture and that's when it occurred to me that, that was not the smartest idea.😬😬😬

I've never forgotten the unintentional act of vandalism I committed when I was in the 5th grade. I don't remember how or why but there was some reason some of us from the class were able to get in to an unused classroom at the school. One day we were in there just horsing around when I saw something on the floor and picked it up. It was a ball bearing. I had no idea what would happen when I tossed it back to the floor: it bounced and ricocheted around the room. Kinda cool....until it bounced into the chalkboard that ran the full length of the front of the classroom. It made a small hole in the chalkboard and a huge spider web of cracks across the full length of the board. Oops. We didn't go in there again.

I was about 6 and I heard my fave song come on while watching tv and I was naked and started dancing on the bed. My dad and his co worker were standing outside watching me with this look on their face. I will never forget that.

When I was about 11, me and my friends were making bows out of sticks and balloons. I had the great idea to fletch my arrows (sharp sticks) with tin can. Needless to say, I tore my hand open and now have a permanent scar. The thing is I didn't even now it happened until my friends pointed to my hand.

It's not something I did... it's something I said. I can't exactly remember what age I was.. around 8-11 years old. I was at a swimming pool with my friend and he decided to teach me a new word... the N-word. Unfortunately neither of us knew at the time what it actually meant or how offensive it was. We just thought it was a word. I was in the changing rooms at the swimming pool when he told me the word and I yelled at out loud. Turns out there was a black lady in the cubicle next to us and she got very, very angry and me and my parents...

my family is Mexican-american, and my folks were bilingual (Spanish/English), and very active in the latin community of our Catholic Church. my dad was a deacon, and as such received many calls from priests, nuns, and the like. more than half spoke English as their second language. when some of them would call, they naturally spoke Spanish, presuming the person answering the phone understood.
I was in high school when this happened.
a man called and immediately started speaking Spanish at a pretty quick speed. in Spanish I said I understood very little Spanish, and did he speak English, as that would help. in flawless English and without the trace of a Spanish accent, he tells me what he needs from my dad.
remember I'm in high school.
I say "look, you kids (referring to nuns and priests alike) call here and immediately launch into Spanish like everyone knows what you're saying. if you speak slowly, and clearly I could understand a bit, but none of you kids know how to slow down. now. y'all talk too fast for me. good lord, just calm yourselves. now, let's start this over. Hi, would you like me to leave a message for my dad?"
the man says "Yes, hello. this is Padre Rojelio...."

apparently the padre had a great sense of humor. he told my dad he wanted to meet me, but didn't say why.
but he must've said something because that was the first and last time I had to say that.

When I was 6-7 years old me, my mum, dad and sister were out for the day in Scarborough. We were walking down the road and my sister (12 years old at the time) said something to me which made me mad, so I turned and kicked her!! She stumbled into the road and my dad had to grab her as there was a bus coming along the road which ended up slamming on and nearly hitting my sister! Yep my dad gave me a right clip round the ear!! The one and only time he ever did! I appologised to my sister and shared an ice cream with her. She still reminds me to this day i nearly killed her!

Actually I can't remember the story myself but my family has told it to me so often, that I can easily picture myself doing my misdeed.
Here it goes: We visited my grandparents and my mom had just put me down for my nap, I was around 2-3yo. I must have been not very sleepy because I sneaked out of bed and went to the bathroom, which we children shared with my parents at my grandparents house. My mom has a huge favour for lipsticks and her beautycase stood on the floor, easy for me to reach. That must have been hell of a temptation for a little girl like me. And sure enough I started painting myself. Soon that must have started to bore me, because then I began to paint the whole bathroom in all shades of pink from the floor to about half a meter high. Even in the spaces of the radiator I painted pink lipstick. Needless to say why the story is still livid in my family, especially because up to today you can still find rests of the lipstick in the radiator.

I almost burned the house down. I wrapped my dollie in a blanket and put a lighted lamp in with her to keep her warm. It did. Fortunately Mom found my faux pas just in time. Hey I was four; what did I know about combustible material.

I grew up in northern California and my aunt and uncle were visiting from southern California with my two cousins. The older cousin was my age and we regularly picked on the younger one. Her prized possession was her blanket, which was lovingly worn and tattered. At one point, I hid it in the closet from her without her knowing.

That night, they were driving about 100 miles to a hotel on the beach. After I had gone to bed, my parents get a call from my Uncle because my younger cousin couldn't find her blanket and was very distressed. My dad had to wake me up to ask if I knew anything about it. Needless to say, he wasn't very happy about hearing what I had done and driving the blanket down to them in the middle of the night.

I was about 12, my brother 10 and my sister 8 when we almost caused my parents to divorce. We didn't have a lot of money, but they splurged and bought an expensive recliner. A couple days later they went out, and left us home.

Well, we used to play this game called "Ding". We would be in the living room, and I would call out "Ding!" My sister and brother would run into the middle of the room and make believe they were professional wrestlers. We decided to play that fateful night. I called out "Ding!", they running came out and promptly crashed onto the recliner, breaking the arm off. The whole friggin side of the chair was laying on the floor. We were petrified; mom would have killed us! So, of course we leaned the arm back up like nothing had happened and decided to watch TV instead.

Couple days later, dad sat in the chair and of course the arm fell off. My mom was PISSED. "What the hell did you do to that chair" and "I can't buy anything nice" and other, non-publishable statements were hurled at my dad. We knew then and there keeping our mouths shut was the right decision LOL she was terrifying.

We finally confessed a couple decades later. My mom was stunned. "You know I almost divorced your father over the argument that the chair caused," she told us. And my dad? "I TOLD you I didn't do anything!" Yeah, we apologized profusely at that point but I still contend keeping our mouths shut when it happened saved our lives LOL

I must of been about 6 yrs old at the time , found whole new box of chocolat in the fridge , so I ate the whole box to realize it was EX - LAX

When I was a kid, my brother told me that the blood of gays are color green. And I believed it until I learned in school that it cannot be possible, but still sometimes i still think that maybe it is. Hehe

p.s. so much love for LGBT

When I was a kid, I asked my brother (again) why do Muslims cover their hair, he told me that it was gold, so whenever I will see a Muslim back then, id kinda pull their i dont know what its called, hehe.

This one still haunts em because I love animals so much. When I was 5, I had learned that earthworms reproduce by splitting themselves along their lines. Also if they get cut in half, they would just become 2 worms.

I though that was neat and got myself a cutting knife [yeah, back in the 70s], collected a few earthworms and 'helped' them making babies by cutting them into three or so pieces. I was doing this outside our caravan and a friend of my parents walked by, turned pale and shouted at me.

I was really scared because I didn't know what I had done. When my parents got over the hock and heard my reasoning, my dad took me aside and explained that cutting them would mostly kill them. I was petrified and felt soooo guilty. I was told not to, as I couldn't have known. But man, up to this day I rescue every earthworm in danger. I even stop mowing the lawn to pick those that could get hurt wriggling out, and put them into safety. I love earthworms! :(

When I was a small child, I went with my parents and siblings on a holiday to a German-speaking country. One day, we were looking at some sort of parade or procession. At some point, there was a group of little old ladies, all dressed in black. So I shouted: "Look Mummy, witches!" And because of the dialect I spoke, which sits somewhere between Dutch and German, it was perfectly understandable for the locals...

When I was a kid my parents told me to clean my toys in the basement, my stupid child mind took that as "put them in boxes and throw them all out" I've regretted it ever since and I think it's why I'm a pack rat afraid to part with anything.