I am just going to begin at the beginning. This is also kind of tough to piece things together in a cohesive manner when remembering things randomly so I am going to try and do snippets here and there on one subject that I can remember at a time.
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| That's a sweet-ass blouse you got on there, mom |
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| My dad was the forerunner of the trucker hat phenomenon |
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| Oh rusty 70's swingset, you so crazy |
There is obviously a lot about early childhood that most kids don’t remember because…well, they’re small children at the time. Quite a few things are hazy so that is why I called up my mom to ask her a few questions and I’ll be damned if her memory isn’t as bad as mine.
I am the youngest of two girls. My sister, Christy, is four years older than I am. Dad always wanted a boy, which most men do (right?) so when my mom got pregnant the second time he had his hopes up that this one was a boy. When the doctor found out that I wasn’t a boy, he wouldn’t tell dad that he was getting yet another daughter.
So mom goes into labor, dad is still hoping that it is a boy and BAM. I come out and I am a girl. If I am remembering the story correctly, dad’s first words after I was born were, “Shit, it’s another girl!” Thanks dad!
My sister and I still say that if Dad had ever had a boy, he would have been eaten out of house and home. I think everything worked out well, personally. And now dad has two grandsons that he can live out all those cool things he wanted to do with a son when all he got were two (admittedly girly) girls. I don’t think he would trade us now, but back then I am not so sure.
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| Still bummed I don't still have that sweet Radio Flyer |
The first house I ever lived in was in Frayser. We moved from there when I was five, so I remember very little but Christy has better memories as she lived there until she was nine, no one should be surprised that her memories of that house have to do with her being in trouble:
“The Frayser house made a big circle so whenever you got into trouble you could run around that circle and dad would have to chase you. He would be mad at first chasing around his kid who just got in trouble but after a few laps he would start laughing and thats usually how I avoided punishment.”
I never got punished when I was a little because I was an excellent child. Seriously. Christy? Not so much. So basically anything I did would pale in comparison to whatever atrocity that she committed previously. Thanks for paving the way, sis! You broke mom and dad in real nice-like! I rode that gravy train until well after high school. They had seen it all before I got the chance to act a fool so by the time I did anything stupid or worthy of their shame and disappointment, they were pretty numb to it by that time. Ahhh, the joys of being the youngest…
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| Orange Shag Carpeting, represent |
For the most part, I remember Christy being a pretty solid big sister (and she still is). We fought like most siblings do but she tried her damnedest to watch out for me. And we may be complete opposites now but we weren’t always.
When we were little, both Christy and I loved to perform. As I mentioned before, my dad played the drums in a hony-tonk band* every Saturday night. To psych himself up for his “gig” he would play the songs at high volume that he would be performing later that night. My sister and I took this time to dance our faces off.
We would start out in the hallway and as the music would begin we would run out into an imaginary sea of our adoring fans and then we would bust all kind of moves, whatever sort of moves can be busted with a toddler and a small child shaking it to Bob Seger. I think we just jumped a lot. And our big “trick” was to jump off the ottoman. That was our big finish.
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| Yes, that ottoman. I am also pretty sure that is one of my moves. |
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| We also performed on the fireplace as though it were a stage |
*I shot dad a text this morning to ask the name of the band. Not that it matters but someone out there might like to actually know what the band’s name was, I don’t know??? Here is how that text exchange when down:
“So what was the name of the band you played in?"
“Witch one?” (Yes, that is how he spelled it)
“I don’t know. Was there a main one?”
“I was in demand by many bands.” (Do you see where I get it now?)
Through a few more unnecessary texts, I finally got it out of him that the name of the band was, they didn’t have a name. He played for the house band at the Harvester Country Show in Frayser. If I can find pictures of this band, they will be scanned in and shown to you. I know I have seen pictures from it and the chicks wore a lot of bold colored metallic spandex. It’s a sight to see. Also a sight to see: My dad’s rockin’ comb-over and mutton chops.
Next week on Laundry Day: Imaginary Friends…my face is red now just thinking about it…
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