once upon a time...

I was a child.

I remember hiding out behind the navy blue curtains in my bedroom, reading The Babysitter's Club books, and thinking no one would ever find me.

I remember pulling those same curtains out and holding them in place with my  bed pillows, making a tent that I would then sleep in for weeks to come. 

I remember going to my granny's house daily during Christmas vacation, and packing up all my brand new toys to take with me.

I remember that once, when I was five, we visited Trump Tower in New York City and sat outside on some sort of overlook while my mother bemoaned the fact that we could not eat in some fancy restaurant.

I remember crawling up the top stairs of the Washington Monument when I was six because I thought the wind would surely blow us over.  I'm pretty sure that this is when my fear of heights began.

I remember taking a horse-drawn carriage ride through Central Park and pretending that I was a princess.

I remember playing under the table in my Granny's apartment with my best friend, developing elaborate story lines and giggling all day long.

I remember getting in major trouble with my mother one day after visiting the same friend's house.  We had gotten locked out of the house and my hair bow was inside and my mother felt the need to berate me over a $2 bow that would be returned the next day.

I remember walking down the alley to my granny's home one sunny afternoon with another great friend.  It was March and she taught me how to play the fainting game, but I was too afraid to really try.  She was going to come over and play when we finished doing our homework, but I found that my granny had died while I was at school that day.

I remember sitting in the backseat of my step-father's gray oldsmobile sedan for what seemed like hours that afternoon, and then my step-dad finally came out and told me that my granny was dead.

I remember feeling anxious that the bus driver would forget to stop and let me off whenever I would have to ride the school bus or the city bus anywhere.

I remember my mother taking me clothes shopping when I got my first job and would have to dress up everyday to work in a retail shop downtown.

I remember working three jobs at once one summer to help pay for a trip overseas, and my mother having to pay for the trip anyway because I blew all the money.

I remember going to buy my nice, shiny new bass trombone, and then the feeling of denting it a week later.

I remember feeling embarrassed that I couldn't do a push-up at band camp.  I still can't.

I remember practicing singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" the summer before third grade because I was finally old enough to be in my school's choir and I wanted to impress.

I remember thinking, in elementary school, that if I wrote "The End" at the completion of an assignment, that would make it ten times better.  So....  The End!!!!  





This post is part of a writing workshop series over at Coffees and Commutes, entitled "I remember."  Want to write your own?  Head on over to the Coffees and Commutes blog to link up.