When I was in third grade, my brother had to miss school one day to get a mole removed. While sitting in class, with my desk next to the teacher’s, positioned away from all the other kids, I was called into the main office.
I got to the office, and saw my dad. He was there to pick me up. In the middle of the school day.
I was obviously convinced that something had gone horribly wrong during Tommy’s frightening procedure, and that he must now be mole-less but injured somehow, waiting for me in intensive care for a final goodbye or a transfusion of some sort that only I could provide. I began to picture the grand party we’d have in my honor upon home-coming, designed to celebrate my bravery at out-thinking the best of the doctors, and finding a solution to save him with using my own perfect-match of whatever the thing that only I could provide was.
It wasn’t until we got in the car, and Tommy was sitting there, obviously not in need of my assistance (back then, people left kids in the car and ran errands without them – a luxury long-gone) that my dad told us why he’d come to get me. Star Wars had recently come out. The original very-first one in which graphics like this left us breathless with wonder at “How’d they do that?”
Anyway, he’d tried to take us over the weekend but after waiting in line for an hour +, we were met with the heart-breaking news that the show had been sold out. I guess my dad wanted to see it or really was that party-on-excellent awesome because after Tommy’s successful mole-removal, he came to pick me up at school, during the middle of the day so that he could take us to Star Wars. He’ll pretty much always be my hero for that. And I’m totally stealing that idea and doing something similar for Tucker one day.
Another favorite memory from childhood is when I had my coveted little sister.
For a week.
When I was eight, we moved into a new house. New school district, new (no) friends, new everything. To help ease my loneliness, I dressed my youngest brother Mike up like a little girl each day. He went along with the game, as he was three, I was eight, and was paying attention to him.
I’d dress him up, curl his hair and parade him around the neighborhood introducing him as Mike’s twin sister, Michelle. All was grand and good until day nine. Which is when I accidentally burned his head with my curling iron (as I type that, it surprises me that my parents allowed me to own and operate a curling iron at all). Sadly, I had to say a forever-goodbye to my little sister Michelle that day. Playing with her remains one of my favorite childhood memories.
What about you? What are some of your treasured childhood memories? I love when you guys tell me this stuff!!
This has been a Finish The Sentence Friday post. The sentence is “One of my favorite childhood memories is…”
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