Memory Lane is My Yellow Brick Road

Sometimes I start reminiscing about the "good ol' days." Unfortunately for me, they come bogged down with far too many bad things. I won't go into detail for the sake of you, the reader, who probably does not know me in what we internet junkies call "real life." You can follow my witty and sparse one-liners, my eccentric views on life, and assume that's me - the average kid who grew up with average parents in an average town. I'd prefer that actually. I'd rather not be pegged as jaded but rather be identified as sarcastic. It works out better for everyone because quite honestly, you can't tell someone you have cancer and keep the smile on their face for the next joke (metaphors, all of that. I don't have cancer).
So I was laying in bed and suddenly had this memory pop up that forced me to run from the room just to prevent waking up my husband with my foolish laughter.
This detailed account of hilarity to ensue will basically show you what it must have been like to be friends with me back in the day (I'm still so so sorry, Mary!).
My best friend (still) Mary was spending the night with me when we were maybe 13 or so. I had a board game that was old and falling apart; I think it was SORRY!, which would be ironic in hindsight.
You know how board games always burst at the corners and you end up with a giant rectangle with four flaps around it? That is just about the point this game had reached.
I don't remember why anymore, but for some reason I had picked up the lid and, whilst standing roughly two feet from my friend, was extending the box lid just past her head. Narrowly whizzing past her, I would call out "I know where the box is!" and then pull it back.
I punched it to the left of her head (her own right side) with my left hand mindlessly saying "Don't flinch! I know where the box is Mary" assuming I guess that she should trust me, and that no harm would ever befall her here.
Next thing I know, I shove the box as hard as I can beside her head again - just as the flap makes it's last fleeting appearance as support for the box lid. The lid shifts without the support of the flap I had been holding and so, just as I thrust it forward, it lands an awesome blow right into the center of her forehead. With all my force behind it and too late to stop, I nearly knock her over backwards while stupidly still shouting " I know where the box is" one last time.
We still reference "I know where the box is" from time to time.

If you think this is the most retarded thing ever dreamed up on this island earth, just stay tuned. I could fill a book with all of the asinine happenings and misfortunes that befell my friends and family, and generally people who come into contact with me.