Thursday, July 5, 2012

Childhood Memory

Besides a ridiculous collection of beanie babies, pokemon cards and pogs, a love of the Babysitter's Club books and an embarrassing stint with the teletubbies, there's not an obvious memory from my childhood that stands out. When does childhood technically end anyways? I've been thinking about this all day. I'd think of something and then wonder if that memory happened at the appropriate age.

The memory I always think of when I think 'childhood' is being in our backyard with my Dad. This is especially noteworthy because I hate being outside. But I loved it back then. One day my Dad was painting the chairs and benches and I wanted to help, desperately. So Dad fetched me a bucket of water and my own paint brush. I painted the ground, the rocks, chairs, stairs, everything. I loved it, I loved feeling like I was part of the job. That in some tiny way I was really making a difference. In reality I'm sure I was just in the middle and frustratingly annoying.

P.S. the Internet is down at my house so I'm writing on my phone, never again!


Life of Love

2 comments:

  1. By the way, you were never in the way sweet pea. It is one of my most cherish memories. You worked so diligently so as not to “paint” outside the lines. Your eyes grew the size of saucers as you would stop and admired your work. You were so proud of yourself. I could think of a few dozen other times... your bedtime stories, your countless plays and dance shows, your painted rocks you sold throughout the neighbourhood. Thank you for the wonderful memories of what it is to be alive!!

    Love Dad

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  2. oh my gosh pogs...i still have mine! YES
    . . .
    That's such a great idea to include the child without making the mess! What a great memory to have with your father!

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