Ehe,there were many things I did, but I remember just some of them. I cut my friends hair(I was hairdresser), I made injections(for animals), I liked very much to beat and punish boys(hahaha) ,but the most naughty was when my father came home from work(he is a vet) and he found us(me and all my friends) broken all his injections and tablets. I came home very late at home and I was hidden to a friend,then he forgave me after 1 week.

As a child living in the Bahamas, my family and I went shopping in open markets and small stores. Going to the shop was always fun because, I saw things that I never saw before. One day we had gone shopping and I saw my parents grabbing things off the shelves and throwing them into the cart. I found a little toy police car, I grabbed it and walked around until my parents were ready to leave (during this time, most of the food and products were not packaged, the toy just had a sticker on it). When we got home and my parents saw me playing with the car and said, "where did you get that, I don’t remember buying this". I told them I saw it and took it. Angry, they asked me why I stole it, but I had no idea what they were talking about. My parents took me back to return the toy car and apologize to the people in the store, I was so sad. So I ask if we could get a toy and they said, ok, so I grabbed the same one. When I think about it now, it’s kind of funny.

i cut my hair by myself the day of my anniversary and my mother was sooooo mad and she hit me .

This is a really nice question. it remind me of my little girl's memories bit by bit. though I was a smart little girl at that time, i would like to play with naughty boys, I always fought against my homosexual friends. I remember I had ever fought against a girl who was older and higher than me, we fought and rolled down on the ground, hugging very tight each other, finally I pulled up her one or two wisps of hair. so far I don't know whether her hair grows up now... I'm very sorry for her...

I did something very bad when I was a little boy. It hurts me to think about it. My mother is from Germany. She grew up in the 60s. As a little girl, she had a doll with a blue dress, blonde curly hair, and eyes that moved back and forth. It also made a little noise when you moved it. This was the only doll that she had for a very long time. After my sister and I were born, my family eventually moved to Georgia. We lived in that house for 11 years. One day, I found my mother's doll. And somehow I broke it. The head came off. I don't remember if it was an accident or if I really wanted to break it. I do remember what happened afterwards, though: I hid the broken doll in the bottom drawer of the living room end table, so that she would not find it. We eventually moved out of that house when I was in high school. I'm pretty sure she found it when she and my father were packing the house while my sister and I were in school. I feel really bad now that I'm older because I broke something that was very important to her, something that was a part of her childhood. Destroying a precious object is pretty naughty to me.