Childhood Memories

My first kiss was in 1st grade. I was playing Go Fish with this girl named Sandy, when all of sudden she leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. I liked it, but for weeks after I kept wondering if she’d given me Cooties. Of course, that’s ridiculous. The cold sores should have been a dead give away that it was Herpes.

My earliest memory is about getting ready to go fishing at Lake Whitney with my dad. I remember eating waffles, having my first taste of coffee and asking my dad if I could sit on his lap and drive part of the way. He said, “you’re 16 now, why don’t I just sit in the seat next to you?” I guess I wasn’t thinking straight because it was 4:30 a.m. I don’t think I’ll ever have an earlier memory than that.

In the 4th grade I challenged Ricky Fitzsimmons to a fight. My best friend Tommy thought I was crazy. “Are you kidding? That guy’s as big as my house,” I remember him saying. “That may be true,” I said. “But I’m bigger than that cardboard box you live in, so I think I can take him.”

Even from a young age, my sister always wanted to help people. She was always helping mom with the dishes or dad with the trash. She was so enthusiastic about the whole thing, one time she even came up with a Helping Cheer. I forget how the words went (she said “Help!” a lot), but with her arms flailing and that water flying everywhere, I can vividly remember how funny the whole thing looked from the beach!

When I was three, my mom took me with her to the beauty salon and I burned my hand on a curling iron. It hurt at the time, but I guess it was worth it. My mom never asked me to curl her hair again.

One time, I found a dog in my neighborhood and brought it home. I begged my dad to let me keep it, but he didn’t want to hear it. “He’ll just lay around all day and smell up the house,” he told me. “So,” I replied. “He may be dead, but he’s still fun to pet!”

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