When you where a kid, where did you hide stuff when you didn’t want anyone to find it?
I used to hide cigarettes inside of a rolled up sleeping bag. I found out, from my daughter (I didn’t catch her, she told me), that she used to hide cigarettes inside of a hand puppet.
When I was about 6 or 7, I used to hide my sweets in a small suitcase under my bed. There was loads of stuff under there, so nobody ever found them (not even my little sister, who was always stealing my sweets) until the Incident.
You see, I didn´t get sweets often, so I always saved them up for a rainy day. And I loved creamcheese-and-jam breads. One afternoon, we had some and I took them to my room. I ate one and hid the others in my suitcase.
A few weeks later when my stepdad was vacuuming my room, he decided to clean under the bed, too, pulled out all the boxes and stuff and suddenly noticed a nasty smell…
Needless to say, I had to find a new “secret” place.
And my sister never let me live that one down.
I’d tell you, but I’ve been keeping WMD’s there lately, so I’d better not 
I used to bury stuff in my pile of stuffed animals…or under the bed, in a pinch.
But that isn’t nearly as important as where your parents hide stuff. 
My mom hid all her dirty romance novels in her lingerie drawer. Foolish, foolish woman! Thinking I wouldn’t find 'em. She also kept Christmas presents behind her shoe boxes, high on the top shelf of her closet. And my dad kept Playboys in the thin back-folder in his briefcase.
Why, I keep all my money and jewels in that fake rock on the front lawn–it’s the big grayish one to the left of the driveway. The whitish rocks are real. Ha! No way those burglars are gonna get my money and jewels agai–
:dubious:
Hey, wait a minute…
Oh, boy, the memories:
[ul]
[li]Inside the bass drum (hole in front head, at that time)[/li][li]Inside the hi-hat cymbal[/li][li]In a basket, hung on a nail inside the laundry chute[/li][li]In the A/C register in the floor[/li][li]In a hollowed-out book, kept on the shelf[/li][/ul]
Heh! Reminds me of a something I saw in “The Onion”, it went something like:
"AT-AT Toy First Place Police Look for Marijuana Stash"
As for me, I kept my stash in the bettery compartment of my stereo.
Hmm. Inside ceramic thingies I made in high school.
Inside VHS cases.
Computer software boxes.
Behind pictures on the wall.
Between my speaker and a board on my bedshelf.
Under my mattress.
Under clothing in my dresser.
In the far corner shelf of my closet.
** Joe K**, what did you do when you wanted to play drums? I can see leaving stuff in the bass drum-but the hi-hat?
That reminds me of the time I lost all my drumsticks. I had like six pairs and had no idea where they could have gone. Then I realized that my niece had stuck each one through the hole in the top of my bass drum. Little rascal
My CRX had a little horizontal compartment in the back platform (where a back seat would have gone) that no one knew to look for, locked, and was the perfect size for bottles of beer.
I loved that car.
Cigs in a cassette tape case, and when I was just starting smoking I kept my cig (cuz I never sneaked more than one out of my dad’s pack) in a hollowed out hi-lighter.
Also, the inside door ledge of my closet and the battery compartment of my (musical) keyboard.
After I got caught with a playboy in my dresser drawer I became a big fan of “hidden in plain sight” and kept all my magazines on the shelf just under a few nintendo magazines.
I hid a bad report card in a record album jacket. My brother found it and ratted me out. (for you youngsters, record albums were those big cardboard thingies that had song lyrics and stuff printed on them…that you stored LP’s in. )
I’ll never forget the time, when I was in high school, that my mother found some Playboys that my father had hidden in the basement.
I actually was embarrassed on his behalf. She acted so martyred and understanding: “You don’t have to HIDE them from me, Conrad, I UNDERSTAND that men like to look at pictures of naked women.”
Hee!
Oh wow… flashback time. (no pun intended)
I hit on the idea of using an empty cassette case, as well. But, having “cool” parents was a royal pain in the ass, as between them they listened to most of the same music I did, which made my rack of tapes a dubious hiding place at best.
Until it occurred to me that I wasn’t restricted to buying tapes that I absolutely loved. So I bought an Anthrax tape, tossed the actual tape itself in a cardboard box full of blanks, and used the case as a stash.
I figured (rightly enough, as it turned out) that would be the one tape neither of my parents would ever get the urge to listen to.
And as a bonus, for about three months, I was hooked on the I am the Man psuedo-rap, to boot. See what bad things drugs can do to you, kiddies?
I had a Dressy Bessy doll, which had a zipper pouch. Perfect hiding place, even into my 20’s. If that doll could talk…
Never really had anything to hide until I started driving a car and dating girls. One winter night while my folks were out of town, I was given the OK from the cute little blonde I’d been seeing. Mind went to the glovebox of the Plymouth, and the thought of a near freezing prophylactic on Mr. Happy. :eek: But I did know where Dad hid his skins, and went there. Your last one? Sorry, Pop. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. 30 years later, I still snicker when I think of that night.
When very small, I had a plate with a chamber underneath it for putting hot water to keep the food warm. When I got old enough to figure out how to get the cap off, I would stuff any vegetable I didn’t like down inside the thing.
One day, my mother tracked a foul smell in the kitchen to my plate, opened the cap, and nearly passed out from the stench. The jig was up.
I was horrible at this, who knew that Mom was hip to the between the mattresses gig? :smack:
I remembered another one, thinking about my original stash case.
This wasn’t quite Scarlet Letter level brazenness, but I used to keep the legal (but not allowed) stuff behind some paperback books, on my bookshelf. If my mother ever found it odd that I, a total slob in all other respects, always kept my books neatly shelved and fronted, she never let on in my presence.
Of course, considering that the smell gave me away, she had to know bloody well I was smoking, whether or not she ever found my cigarrettes.
Hmmm…
In a hollow in one of my bedknobs.
In my Star Wars collection-- Not just the AT-AT, but mostly in the Millenium Falcon and the RC Sandcrawler.
From 1984 until I moved out of the house, in my Coleco Adam, which had a convenient top panel (pictured) for access to expansion slots and storage of contraband.