Ahh Scott, being my younger sibling directly under me; he sure survived a lot. I remember trying to get him to sneak out of the house with me. We were about 4 and 6. It was the house in Saugus. Anyway so we had already tried the front door but Mom stopped us. Then I whispered to Scott, "Let's go out the garage door."Then from down the hall mom yells, "And don't even THINK about going out the garage door!!!"Then there is of course the dreaded day Scott broke his arm. We had been playing peek-a-boo with the youngest Crockett at the time....Tadd?? We were in the Hidden Valley house in the living room and Scott was standing on a stool to see Tadd through the railings on the stairs. I was amused by the game as well. Scott then jumped off the stool and it swiveled at the last second, contorting his body so that he ended up landing directly on his arm. He screamed, "MOM!!!!" only one time. At first I thought he was messing around so I stood there laughing at him. (I know, I'm horrible) and then mom came bolting around the corner, wild eyed. She scooped up Scotty boy and screamed at Lindsay to call 911. Lindsay can fill you in on that part. Mom can finish her end of the story. I was a by-stander in all of this and immediately felt horrible for laughing at him as he was whisked away to the hospital. Poor little Scott. And on that day one of Dad's longest running jokes was born. A joke that will never die.
Yes, I know it was insane for me to tell Lindsay to call 911, BUT when I picked up Scott his forearm flopped down in the middle and I could see his bone poking through the skin-it freaked me out just a bit. Scott was such a sweet, cute little boy-so cute that we started calling him Scott-boy and Scottina. Scott has always been someone who likes order. When we moved into our house on Glenridge, I arranged the furniture in the livingroom the way I wanted. I came back in the room later to find four-year old Scotty lining up all the furniture neatly against the walls. And of course Scott is the champion puzzle finisher in this family. More to come.
My favorite was when I snuck up on him in the library today. He was waiting to use the computers and I hovered awkwardly close behind him until he was forced to look down and see who it was.
The torture he put me through when I was 5 to 11.
Okay, here's one of my favorite Scott memories.During the time I lived at home before my mission, Scott was a little tween and we played some jokes on each other. One day, I was using the computer in the family room and I hear Scott say, "Hey Lindsay!" from above. I look up and a cup of water splashes directly onto my upturned face. I had to hand it to him, it was pretty darn good timing. Also, aside from his destructive teen years, I never remember Scott really getting in trouble. Either he was a golden boy or older sister Carly's antics overshadowed anything he did.
The time he ripped up the doorway to the bathroom. I wasn't there, but I've seen that destruction. Teen angst rage.
I remember when Scott decided to break the rules in Chichen Itza and get up where the King sat to watch the players on the ball court. He raised his arms triumphantly as if he was meant to be there. I saw his power hungry eyes, it creeped me out.
I remember seeing Scott as this nice person when I was really little, and then he starting beating us up every time he saw us. Then, whenever Tadd and I were in the direct presence of him, I would always say "Remember, when Scott was nice, (insert other words here)
I recall the time when Scott and a couple of his friends were messing around with the security system thing and they actually set off the house alarm. hahaha, that was pretty funny
What about when Scott made the basket for the wrong team? I wasn't there but hearing mom tell the story is enough to make me cry. How old was he then....like 7? Poor kid.
Yes, other than the out of control teasing and anger management issues of his teenage years Scotty-boy has always been a wonderful, obedient, funny, helpful son. When he had to have surgery on his mission, I was so proud of him for not wanting to come home and risk not being able to return to Brazil. He toughed it out.
Hey Scott (and Sean I think?) do you remember that game "watch out" we used to play in the old house? Were you too young Scott? Those were good times.
When Scott was ten he had to write something for school, along the lines of what he things his dad things of him. He wrote something like, my Dad thinks I'm a loser. I was pretty devastated. Did I do anything about it? I decided to start calling him a dweeb more. Scott doesn't say much but he was a popular kid and had lots of friends. I admired his ability to hang with people.Hanging with Scott on his mission for a few days was one of the great experiences of my life.
Snowboarding in Vail with all that fresh snow was a great time... until Scott started complaining about the back bowls. I remember bombing down the mountain behind Scott on one particular run underneath a chairlift, going very fast. I think this run inspired me to buy a helmet.
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