Raining Petals

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Cardboard Box on a Hill With a Thrill

My sister has started writing from some prompts in a "mother's journal". They are simple questions for you to answer and record for your children to read. Reading hers has brought a lot of memories flooding in. She invited me to join her and I accept the invitation.

My title is a phrase that Casey and Kristin Allen whispered into my ear one night while I was sleeping to see if I would dream about it. I can't remember if I actually dreamed about it or if I heard them whispering it and then told them I had some weird dream about a box on the hill the next morning...most likely that latter because I was wily like that ;)

What were your favorite childhood activities?

Well playing with my siblings first and foremost (when we weren't beating the living daylights out of each other)...yes we were one of those families. When I was 3 and 4 playing with my older brother Nate was my favorite thing to do. Of course we always played what he wanted but I felt special to tag along and be "big" along side him. We played with his G.I. Joe's and one year I remember he got an awesome laser tag game where you strap the target to your chest and run around with guns trying to shoot the target of the other person. When you hit the target the lights would flash and make cool siren noises. Coolest toy ever! I think we may have played with it once until we either ruined it, it ran out of batteries, or we lost important parts. Nate and I would also go on treks through the tall trees and swamps and would go in search of the elusive ice cream truck...which we could ALWAYS hear but NEVER find dagnabit!

One time Nate and I set out on our day's journey to make it to a neighborhood friend's house named Red-Headed Johnny. He had the cool Nintendo Games, i.e., Mike Tyson' s Punch Out. Well, for small children aged 3 and 5, walking a couple of blocks is the equivalent of 10-15 miles for a normal adult. It seemed to take all day. Once we made it though the steamy swamps, eluded the R.O.U.S.' , and made it out of the vast forest to a paved street, we ran into one more obstacle. One that is feared by many a small child. So much so, they have even made movies about it. Big, Mean, Girls. 3 big girls were standing on the street and spotted us wee, little things pop out of the trees and start heading toward them. They could have been 7 for all I knew...but when you are 3, 7 seems like 15, 15 seems like 25 and so on. So, I can't really tell you how old they were except they were bigger than us. And mean...did I mention mean? These big, mean, horrid girls put their hands out and stopped us in our tracks, they would not let us pass. We stood there looking at them and listening to them tease us and ask us taunting questions. We asked them several times to let us by but they would not. Finally, under one condition we would be able to pass, but only after we passed the test. The ring leader of the awful, mean, horrid girls ripped a thorn off of a rose stem and licked the bottom of it and stuck it to her hand. She then extended her hand toward us and insisted that we shake her hand or they would not let us by. I remember being stricken with terror! How could they?! That thorn looked to be the most painful thing I have ever seen and I could only imagine it piercing my delicate, little palm and then bleeding to death and never getting to see my mom again. I was beyond myself and could only stare out of fear keeping me from being able to do anything else. I was crying inside but not letting it escape to the outside. If I can remember correctly I was clutching to my big brother's arm (all 5 years of it). Nate extended his hand first and shook. And then I go all fuzzy here...no doubt the sheer terror of it all made me slip inside of myself to be able to survive such a traumatic event. Needless to say I am still here 24 years later...no scars on my hands to speak of. Obviously though, physical pain is not the only thing that can scar. I hope those big, mean girls got pricked by their own thorns a time or two...it is only fair;)

We were let past...I remember Nate grabbing my hand and we took off running. I can remember looking back and seeing the 3 girls standing there...so glad to be putting distance between myself and them. We DID make it to Red-Headed Johnny's and I got to sit there and watch while the two boys got their fill of violence, Nate no doubt releasing some built up angst from the previous experience. I never got a turn to play. Maybe that is why I am writing this now.

I will leave you with this jewel from my past. I shall continue my favorite childhood pastimes in the next post. Until then...go ahead a blog about yours.


Us Bailey's said...

What a fun activity. I love hearing about your childhood memories-- and one day Carter will too! I'm very glad you got to where you were going safely! Isn't it funny how kids see such a different perspective -- always bigger and more? Good luck with everything and Happy Holidays!

Kristin said...

Ha ha!! I love your family!! Love the memories! We can only hope our kids have as good of friends as we had growing up! It made for a lot of great memories! And a lot of funny memories.

Casey Marie said...

I love that you had to avoid the R.O.U.S.'s. That is pretty dangerous for two little kids. Good thing Nate watched Superman.
Bullies are the worst. It would be sort of fun to be able to peek at thsoe 3 girls now and see how their life turned out. They are probably really nice people who feel bad doing that.