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Whose Stuff Is This?
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Tag Archives: Childhood
Katie was crying miserably, stood on a stool, water running, washcloth in her trembling hand. “What’s the matter, honey?” Her mother stepped into the bathroom and turned off the faucet. “They won’t come off,” Katie sobbed, scrubbing the washcloth at … Continue reading
Nana and I stepped out under a late night sky. It was just a walk, but I was thrilled beyond belief! I wasn’t ever allowed outside after dark, but Nana was the boss of Mama, and so when she invited … Continue reading
I had one Barbie in my lifetime. I found her in the back garden when I was about four, and although I wasn’t sure why she was so important, I was sure she was; important enough to keep secret. She … Continue reading
I was still five when Disney made the world fall in love with The Little Mermaid all over again. Like many girls, I stood inches in front of my TV set, watching a thing called a VHS video-cassette, and singing, … Continue reading
Uncle Nick had a bump on his head. It wasn’t like the lumps a phrenologist reads, or the normal, swollen result of standing up under a low cupboard without realizing. Nothing like that. It was an ugly, purplish cauliflower to … Continue reading
I can’t really say we got arrested. We were nine years old. Well, Jessi was. You couldn’t handcuff a couple of girls our age anway. The cuffs would just fall off. But we ended up in the back seat of … Continue reading
I was literally the last girl in my high school allowed to wear makeup. Mama didn’t campaign for my right to self-beautification until I was nearly fifteen. Even that battle was really a diversion. I capitulated when Daddy agreed to … Continue reading
1968 was a strange time that stood in a world by itself, where armed militia waged war against college students, while blocks away, colorfully-robed Hare Krishnas chanted mantras as they danced in the streets. The Beatles were dominating the pop … Continue reading
I used to dream of being an actress. By the time I got my first chance at nine, it was already secondary to my dream of being a writer, but it was a dream none the less. I think all … Continue reading