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Reminiscing

I’ve been doing a little reminiscing over the past few days… My earliest childhood memory was my fourth birthday party. That memory is as clear as day to me. I remember all of my family crammed around our kitchen table…my older brother, my four older sisters, my dad, and my mom, who was holding onto my younger sister, and my aunt and uncle who lived right next door to us. I blew out my birthday candles and then had a huge piece of cake and a scoop of ice cream. I remember the presents I received; a Milwaukee Brewers baseball cap, a wiffle ball and bat set, and a plastic Spider-man toy that was attached to a cheap plastic parachute. The last was my favorite. I loved that toy. I spent hours throwing it up into the air and watching it float down…at least until I threw it a bit too high and got caught in a tree and I couldn’t get it back down. There are many moments in my early childhood that stand out in my memory. I remember my dad taking us kids for walks around the block, telling us we should always watch the ground for money, while throwing change in front of us and laughing as we’d rush to pick it up. I remember going next door to my aunt’s house for snacks. She was an amazingly caring lady, who I miss a lot…she died of bone cancer when I was ten. She had no children of her own, and treated us as if we were her kids. She always left her front door unlocked, and if she wasn’t there, we just helped ourselves to anything we wanted to snack on. I distinctly remember many times, walking next door, going into her cupboard and eating a banana or two and just throwing the peels back where I found them. Good thing she liked me. I remember going around the block, pulling a little red wagon full of mason jars, catching caterpillars, grasshoppers, spiders, and any other type of bug that caught my interest. I remember my grandma Rosa, my dad’s mother, who lived with us when I was very little. She was always reading stories to me, awakening my imagination and giving me a great love reading and writing. I remember that for some reason or another, I was deathly afraid of the sight of blood when I was a little kid…it didn’t matter if it was mine or someone else’s. I guess I must have figured that if you were bleeding, you were going to die or something. One time, I was watching TV and my younger sister, who was just learning to walk, came up and started turning the knobs and changed the channel during my favorite show. I got irritated and gave her a shove, and she fell headfirst into our record cabinet, cutting her head open. Given my fear of blood, I panicked and ran off, hiding in a corner, thinking I killed her. My mom took my sister to get her stitches, and my dad spanked me so hard that it hurt to sit down for days. I remember another similar incident when my older sister was going to beat me up…I can’t remember why, but I’m SURE it was undeserved. She chased me, and I ran into my brother’s room. When she came in, I picked up my brother’s belt and told her to stay away or I’d hit her with it. She laughed and came after me, and when I swung the belt, the buckle caught her right on top of the head, splitting it open. Again, I freaked, terrified and screaming at the sight of blood. She didn’t beat me up…but again, my dad dished out a similar punishment. I remember my best friend was a girl named Becky who lived around the corner. Sure, beings as I was a boy, it might have been somewhat out of the ordinary…but she was a tomboy, and most of the time we did stuff I liked, like playing with my wiffle ball and bat, going to the park and spinning on the merry-go-round, swings, and teeter-totter. Those rare occasions she wanted to play with her Barbies, I went along with it because she was my friend, although I INSISTED on being Ken. For some reason, her parents never seemed to like me very much, although I can’t remember why. I remember going to my park with my older sisters, and falling off of the top a slide one time and hitting the blacktop. I didn’t get badly hurt, luckily, but since they were supposed to be keeping an eye on me, and didn’t want to get in trouble for leaving me alone, my sisters bribed me with an ice cream cone so I wouldn’t tell my mom and dad what happened. I remember we had a couple of trees on our property. We had a plum tree that we used to have “plum wars” with, whipping them at each other. We also had some other weird tree that had some sort of weird orange looking berry things on it…we always used to call it the poison berry tree. One day my older sisters and some of the neighbor kids pretended to eat the berries on the poison berry tree and “die”, and then rise and act like zombies to scare me. I was terrified and ran in the house. They thought it was hilarious until they realized I had locked the doors and they couldn’t get back in. I remember my first day of kindergarten, and how some mean girl who was about three years older than me pushed me off the steps of the bus. My face hit the curb and bloodied my lip, and my older sisters proceeded to beat the crap out of her. I remember going to my grandma Jenny’s house one time and falling asleep on the floor. In the middle of the night, I woke up to something snuffling around my face. It was my grandma’s dog…a temperamental poodle she had named “Teddy Bear”. When I jumped in surprise, Teddy Bear bit me in the nose. It must have scared the hell out of my parents to be awoken by their five-year-old shrilly screaming, blood streaming down his face. Ahhh, to be a kid again… Neener.gif
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