I was originally I was going to ask about the best summer camp you went to as a kid, but then I realized, probably not everyone went to summer camp as a kid. Like, they’re not required for summer to be fun!
If you’re lucky, you don’t, because that means you were so young when you saw it you don’t remember. (Or you’ve never seen it, in which case you’re not lucky to have something awesome to look forward to.)
Ah, pre-adolescence. Has it changed since I was a young lass? Since my Wee One is only 2, I’ll let you know in about 8-10 years. So until then, I’ll just talk about
One of my first dances was in the small gym in the upstairs of a church, where my school was. There were about 150 kids in the whole building, so the dance was pretty small. And honestly, it seemed stupid. These were the same kids I saw every day. They were mean to me, I didn’t like being around them, so I didn’t see how going to a dance with them would be special.
I just put out a call to “Remember The Time,” but I neglected to add my own memory! The time I got my first tattoo… Because it wasn’t last month. It was my 16th birthday.
My best friend had slipped be a bottle of India ink with instructions on how to give myself a tattoo:
Remember The Time was a monthly blog hop that was done a few years ago by Em of The Waiting, Ashley of Zebra Garden, and later, Kelly of Are You Finished Yet? I imagine that life caught up with them and so they event fell by the wayside, to my disappointment.
When I was a kid, more than looking forward to the fireworks on the 4th of July, I looked forward to the 5th. In the temporary coolness of the early morning, I would climb onto my bike and go on a treasure hunt.
For the fair month of May, I remember my very first kiss. It was magic – the perfect first kiss for any teenage girl.
He was floppy haired and funny, and considered relatively cool among band kids. We’d been “going out” for a week, holding hands in the hallway and leaning on each other after practice.
One afternoon, he walked me home, about a mile, a mile and a half from his house. We hung out in my carpeted kitchen in roller-footed chairs, drinking Cokes. As the evening fell and his time to leave approached, the unspoken expectation rose.
“One year, (at school), I didn’t know. The next year, I just knew. You go from not knowing to knowing. Or if you don’t, you act like you do.” This was the way one of my girlfriend’s learned about sex, and this is totally how I remember it, too. I had been told by my mother about where babies come from when I was young, so young that I don’t remember. But that was just the mechanics, and I was grossed out and that was that. Then, things changed.
I have a board on Pinterest called “Childhood memories,” on which I pin things that, not surprisingly, remind me of my childhood. They usually bring back strong and compelling memories, things I haven’t thought of in a long ass time.