Memories of my Childhood

I remember…
Sometime when my grandparents were visiting me from the West coast, I was playing in the playground by myself, throwing huge rocks from the highest part of the park. I was trying to break them, I suppose. Later on, I saw one that had broken with a sparkly substance. I, being the budding archaeologist, thought it looked like amethyst, only it was black. I showed it to my grandfather, whom I thought knew everything on earth. He looked at it and said, “I think that is a black diamond.” I never quite believed him, but I was also quite gullible; I wasn’t ever sure when he was joking. I still don’t know what it is, but I still have the rock. There are so many cool memories in my rock collection from my childhood, and this is just one of them.

I remember…
There was this little boy Alan my mother used to babysit when he was 1-2 years old. His mother would always want to give my mother gifts and such; that’s just how she is. My mother would never accept, so she always gave my sister and me the presents. Once, she gave us a mini Easter wagon filled with all sorts of goodies and candy. We’d always be excited when Alan came over because we knew it meant nice surprises from his mother (hehe). Hey, we were only 8 and 4.
Well, today I got to see that two-year old boy after 13 years. He is so tall and so grown up! His parents haven’t changed at all. We had a nice lunch together; it was great catching up after all this time.

I remember…
My family used to go on road trips with another family who had two boys around my age. On one of those trips, I rode with them in the middle seat, as usual. The only difference was that there were popcorn crumbs everywhere. The younger one took it upon himself to make spitballs and aim them at me. It was all in good fun. I, of course, squealed and begged him to stop countless times. His brother said to me, “I’ll protect you!” and covered me as best as he could.
Looking back, I am glad that their parents didn’t interfere. I now have a great memory and something to carry with me when I have a boy who throw spitballs at little girls. As long as there is no mean intention, I think I’ll let them have their fun so they can have memories just as I do.

I remember…
When my sister was one year old, I used to play peek-a-boo with her. We’d both put our hands over our eyes when I said, “Peek!” And when I would say “a-boo,” she would keep her hands over her eyes until I said “a-boo” multiple times in rapid succession. It was the cutest thing.

I remember…
When I was little, when I would feel my pulse in my “stomach,” I never told anyone because I thought it was just me and no one would believe me. I actually only found out that I wasn’t hallucinating last semester when we learned the head to toe assessment at school. Now, I know that the aorta is palpable in that region. I was so silly.

I remember…
It was almost time for dinner, and I had asked my father if I could eat a mozzarella stick. He said no. So, I asked my mother. She said yes. But for some reason, immediately after she gave her permission, I told her that my father had said no. I guess I really wasn’t a lying child haha. Well, that consequently made her say no as well. I think I learned that day who to ask first forever.

I remember…
I used to walk around everywhere with my nose in a book. At the store, at church, in the car. Couldn’t do that now, especially in the car.

I remember…
I visited New York City with my family, auntie, and uncle when I was 6 years old. It was a Sunday, and it was pouring rain. My uncle, who loved to spoil my sister and me whenever we visited, brought us into the huge Disney store in NYC. It was the first time I’d ever been in a Disney store. He bought us both Minnie Mouse umbrellas, and he also bought me a 101 Dalmatians backpack. Unfortunately, my mother threw away the umbrellas - I have no idea when - but I still treasure that backpack as I did all those years ago.

I remember…
Those blue and red water shoes I had when I was 6 years old. My fob mother did not know they were water shoes; in fact, she made my sister and me walk around everywhere with them. Let me tell you, in summer weather, they made your feet STINK! After all, they weren’t meant to be out of the water. This happened on another instance when I was 9 with aqua and pink water shoes. This time, though, it was with socks. Someone in church called me out on it, but I didn’t understand. It wasn’t until I was 15 that I actually got to use a pair in the water. It was a good thing, too, because the water floor was rocky. These memories make me laugh at how bad my lack of style really was.

I remember…
I teach 5 and 6 year olds right now at my church. When we say the flag pledges, I tell them to put their right hand over their heart. What do they do? Mirror me! I have my right hand over my heart, and they have their left! So, what I did was switch to my left hand…miracle of miracles, they both switched hands also! It reminded me of when I was 5 years old…
My teacher at church swore that she was coloring with her right hand! My friend and I never believed her. We both thought she was joking with us. I’m left-handed, and since she seemed to be using the same hand as I was, it wasn’t until later when I asked my mother about it that I finally understood. Looking back, that was hilarious. So, nostalgia pours over me when I see my little 5 and 6 year olds doing the same thing I was doing at their age.

I remember…
My mother was sending a huge package somewhere to the US while we were living overseas. The shipping and handling was like, $40, if I’m not mistaken. She had let me write the addresses when I asked. No one knew that I had written our address in the center and the address the box was going to in the top left corner. I had no idea that once the box went into the system, they relied solely on the “to” address in the center! So, when we received that box in the mail about three weeks later, we can say that my mother was less than pleased. I wasn’t allowed to write mail and stuff for a very long time.

I remember…
I had a friend who claimed to have flat feet. I personally could see no difference. But ever since then, I’d always wondered what it would be like if I had flat feet. In my mind, I made it so that I did. Well, you know those charts that show if you have either flat, very arched, or normal arched feet? When I would make footprints with water, it always looked closer to the flat foot one than the normal one. But I always thought it was me just imagining something that wasn’t there. Until about half a year ago…I had gone for my first ever physical. And one of the last things that the nurse practitioner said to me was that I’m a little flat footed! I was so surprised. But now I can see it. And I wish I didn’t have flat feet…