Your Favorite Childhood Memory

[Jet]

My mom used to cut my bangs so short that I used to walk around with both eyebrows raised so they would look longer.She would say, "stop that! Or your face is going to stay that way!"

[MrSunshine]

My little brother was the youngest of 8 I was number 7. When he was born the doctor's cut the umbilical cord too short and they had to remove the whole belly button deal and he ended up with a smilie face with dimples.
So, when I was about 5 he was 2-3 and I would catch lady bugs and keep them, with my hand semi cupped, in my belly button. (don't anyone call peta I always let them go so they could live). He was so fascinated that I could do that he would shriek with laughter.
When he died it was mid October in Michigan, cold, brown outside and gloomy. I came home from the hospital and the ceiling in the house was covered in swarms of lady bugs. It blew everyone away.

[gotoseagrl]

swinging & digging in the sandbox - very gratifying.

[Emmy]

I'm not sure if it's my favorite, exactly, but it sure stands out.

I grew up in the woods in Canada- no cars, no running water, no electricity - with hippyish parents. Because they thought it was important to be totally honest with me, they told me there was no santa from the start. But later, I suppose they started to feel bad about it- what if they'd robbed me of some essential childhood fantasy? So, they created a stand in: Dr. Winter.

Dr. Winter was a dirty clown. He had a bedraggled-looking clumpy clown wig, and a grimy face. He was also mute. He came "down from the mountains" specifically for my birthday, when he would take me into the woods, give me gummy bears and a harmonica, and sit with me on the snow, silently, in a clearing for a bit. The extra-unsettling part was that we lived in a town of approximately 50 people, cut off from civilization but hundreds of miles, and this man did not look at all familiar to me. Creepy.

[Andrew, Jr.]

Tying my shirt to the handle bars of my bike. I did it all summer long. Not one adult said a word to me. I was one of the guys.

[GoofyLuvr]

In 76 we were living in MI. A huge blizzard came through, leaving snow up to the rooftops and everyone stranded in their homes. It was a blast for us kids. The snow was so deep, we could build these wonderful multi-roomed forts! The hours I passed in my fort, pretending to be an eskimo. Even tried to hitch my dog to the tobaggan.

[katzietootle]

1.catching ladybugs,dragonflies and butterflies while wearing only underpants
2. playing with mud
3. cooking stems,leaves,flowers and after eating them....

[Rockinonahigh]

When I was a kid we had his store owned by some folks who came across the water with my gramps way back ...anyhow they had and still after many generations,still have the same store...same name and all.Anywho on hot summer days I would ride my bike to the store and for .25 I could buy a big sour pickle..I 'd buy two cause I wanted one for later whan I got home.They were so sour it would near lock my jaw trying to eat it,to this day I still love sour pickles only I get them by the jar now...yum.

[Jet]

My cousin Alan used to make us sick. He'd take chocolate cake and stuff it in a glass and then soggy it up by pouring milk over it. made me gag like oatmeal makes me gag.

Anyway, here's dad and me and my favorite socks.

[RockOn]

I was six years old. One day in particular when my grandmother let me play in the rain. There was not a thunderstorm going on or any lightening so it was not dangerous. At my request, she fixed me up with my blue towel "Superman Cape" and let me go out in the rain and play. When I was little, I was always thinking I was a cowboy (i.e. Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers, etc.) , a secret agent or an action figure. (action figure like Superman, GI Joe, etc.) And who was the TV cowboy good guy who had the beautiful horse with the blond mane named Champ??? I was him too. In these fantasies, I always got to be with the girl. LOL!

I tell you, I dearly loved my grandmother. She was dependable in that I always knew what she said to me was the truth. I could count on that every single time. I stayed with her a lot when I was little. Both my parents were alcoholic. I sincerely do not believe the poor souls knew fact from fiction. They did the best they could considering the circumstances. I indulged myself in the same addiction from teens until I was in my early thirties - 30 or 31. Then I had a moment of clarity one day where I saw I was becoming just like them. I did not like what I saw. I am one of the fortunate ones who sought and found recovery. A lot of people who are afflicted with this never make it into recovery. I am eternally thankful for it. Out of my many, many blessings, this one is the most valuable and I have a truly thankful heart for it - now and forever. I will always protect it.

This pleasant childhood memory I described here is not my favorite childhood memory but is certainly a high-ranker. I had forgotten about it until yesterday when I played in the rain with my dog. It is neat how things long forgotten will suddenly get triggered and come into your memory.

Was this too much information? LOL! It is all good today - one day at a time.

EDIT:
I am a big cut-up, love to joke, play and laugh but my sobriety is something I hold in high regards and take very seriously. It is totally my responsibility and only mine ... to keep it in a safe place. I am thoroughly experienced in doing this very thing ... and I really would not want it any other way. *grin*

Man, I need a second cup of coffee.

Peace.

[Glenn]

You mean besides playin ball with the gang, getting my first real bike, or making out with that hott little Mary Jo? Wow..soo many..well I'll pick one. Our gang lived on a spookey alley we called Snake Alley. This older kid use to dress up in a Dracula costume with the fangs, cape, makeup, the whole shot, and hide in Snake Alley around sundown. Our gang sat on the back steps every damn night wth our guns, talking, and waiting for Dracula to appear in the alley, and then we'd run home yelling Lol! I think our parents hired that kid.

[Jet]

When I was really little like '62-'63
we lived next door to a big family with
real good lookin' kids in high school.

The littlest kid, about 6 years old,
was named Butchie and he was
always hanging around where he shouldn't.

His sisters who were in high school
were gorgeous, and very popular,
and one night his
oldest sister Connie had a date.

So Butch was hanging around the bathroom
watching her get ready to go out. As it happened
the bathroom door was partly opened and he
saw Connie insert a Tampax.

He was a chubby, stocky little kid with white
curly hair and dimples, and he walked around like
he owned the house —real sure of himself.

So he goes into the living room where Connie's
date is sitting on the sofa waiting for her.
And Butch says, "Connie'll be with ya in a minute,
she stickin' a candle up her butt."

Here's remembering childhood, great stories and
the early 60s with Bobby Vee........

[Canela]

I wrote this for my grandmother (Guelita) the day of her funeral...January 14, 1998...this is and will always be my favorite and most poignant childhood memory.

AVER ESA MUNECA…


She was peddling hard on her sewing machine, trying to finish up the last little bit of the colcha (quilt)she was making. The Atlas sewing machine head on a Singer cabinet, modified for her so she would have her sturdy machine and a convenient cabinet to sew on. I must’ve been about 7 or 8 I guess, when I first noticed this gift of hers.

My Guelita, she sewed lots of things. She made curtains of all kinds, cojines (cushions), colchas, no doubt, and even clothes for me. And I would sit at her feet, in front of the screen door, while she sewed. She was sewing a short set (you know, a matching top and bottom)for me for school/play. Every time she finished a little more of it, she’d make me try it on. Then she could see where she’d need to make changes. Usually she’d cut a little strip here, a little piece there, and those little leftover pieces would float on down to the floor. I’d pick them up and grab my baby doll and try to wrap it around her little, chubby body in an attempt to create/design something too, just like Guelita was doing for me. It never worked quite the way I’d hope, but I still tried.

Guelita didn’t talk a lot, especially when she sewed. She concentrated on what she was doing, thinking her own thoughts and only God knows what those were. I was a little girl so she didn’t have much conversation for me. I just sat there quietly, and played with my doll baby and wrapped the little pieces around her and when I got done with that, I’d pick up the remnants of threads and roll those all up unto a little ball. Then I’d look around for something to do, feeling bored and waiting. I hated to wait. But I knew better than to leave from there. I never left.

That day, Guelita finished the outfit for me. Then she did something I will never forget. She thrust her hand out to me where I was sitting, waiting and said, “Aver, damela”, (let me see, give her to me)and even as she said so, I placed my baby doll in her beautiful, long fingers, her hand tired yet still strong and almost regal with her fingers extended in an impatient pose. I placed my doll baby in her hand and watched her as she brought her up to her machine, disrobed her and started to cut something for her from the same cloth as my outfit!

I stood up, excited but keeping myself at a safe distance so as to not exasperate her and cause her to stop. She was very fast as she sewed a few seams here and some there, and a hem and a flounce and voila! My doll baby had the exact same short set I did!

Guelita handed her back to me without a word. There was no pomp and circumstance, no big grandiose speech or even a little word of loving kindness. But it didn’t matter! In that moment I knew she loved me without having to hear her tell me so.

And that day, I loved her the most.

[Jet]

I Love Lucy and the Flintstones

[Tcountry]

hmmmm...I think it would have to be Thanksgiving on the farm....
The only time and place both sides (mom & dad's) would come together every year...to my mom's folks' farm. We ate great food and played football in the yard all afternoon. Then Grandpa would get out his old "put put tractor"(built the yr he was born) and we would take turns driving with him down the gravel road to the corner and back...