I have always thought it was so interesting the little stories you remember. I don't know what it is that will allow your memory to hold onto one story and not another. And more than likely, the other people that were a part of this memory with you don't remember the story, but remember other little stories that you've managed to forget. Between all of the people that you have ever known, it is quite possible that every thing you have ever done is preserved in some one's mind.
Here are a couple of stories from my childhood that I remember. Who knows if the details I "remember" were the actual facts.
When I was 5, we moved into a new house. This house was considered to be in the middle of nowhere at the time, and was hidden from the street because it was very wooded. Some time after we moved in, my dad cut down some trees around the house, I'm assuming to make room for the yard. (Apparently that detail wasn't shared with my 5 or 6 year old self!) All that remained were the tree stumps that were anchored in the ground.
Using chains and a pick-up truck, these stumps were pulled from the ground. My dad is one of those people that can do anything and knows a lot of people. Somehow or another he then borrowed a dump truck to transport these large tree stumps to the dump. He asked my brother and I if we'd like to ride with him in the big dump truck to go take these stumps to be disposed of. This was of course very exciting for us and we jumped in and buckled up.
We got to the dump at dusk. I seem to remember that it was at someones house or something. The man came out of the house to collect money from my dad so we could dump there. He then jumped back in the dump truck and began to back up to the dumping area. This is when it got scary.
The dumping area was down a huge hill. My dad had to back down this huge hill in a dump truck that carried some very heavy tree stumps, and it was beginning to get dark. Who knows how big this hill actually was. It's funny how big things look to a child. I didn't want to watch this part, but I trusted my dad would get us safely down the hill...he knows how to do everything.
Finally he got down the hill and began to dump the stumps from the truck. My brother and I stayed in the cab of the truck. I'm not sure what happened, but I think a couple of the stumps had gotten wedged in the bed and wouldn't shake out. So my dad had to lift the dump truck bed a little higher to try to get these stumps to dump. (I rhyme from time to time) As he did this, the front two wheels came off the ground and the dump truck was surely going to flip over backwards! We were so scared! He made us get out of the truck once the front wheels were safely on the ground and eventually got the stumps out.
My mom stayed at home with my brother and I until I was in the 6th grade. One summer, my brother and I were so bored and could find nothing to do. I think we were probably 8 and 6 years old at the time. I was a very creative child, and in situations like this we would use this little clear acrylic box that sat on the dresser that we used in times like these. In it we had written down all of the toys and games we owned on little slips of paper, and when we couldn't think of something to play, we'd pick a piece of paper out and play with whatever was written on it. This day we picked a piece of paper that said "Little People." (Although it didn't actually say "Little People" because I don't think that's what they were called back then.)
We weren't thrilled with this idea. Sure, we loved our Little People zoo, western town, airport, school, A-Frame house, and garage, but we just weren't in the mood to play with those this day. But we had picked that piece of paper and we HAD to do what it said.
This is where my mom came to the rescue. She suggested we make our own houses using paper bags from the grocery store turned upside down. We could then play with the people and cars but instead of using the house, school, etc., we would use the houses we made out of the bags. We loved this idea and decorated our houses using crayons and markers and then cut out windows and doors.
We played with those houses for hours. I remember going into the kitchen and telling my mom, "This is the best day ever! I am having so much fun!"
Ahhh, to be a kid again....
