Trekking Down Memory Lane - Part 1

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Trekking Down Memory Lane - Part 1 When it comes to good memories growing up, I don't have very many. For me to come up with seven for the childhood memories one was a challenge. So I'm going to trek down memory lane and see what I unearth that is worth remembering from my less than great childhood. I've read some great posts about your relationships with your parents and siblings, and I think that's wonderful. For me life was less than wonderful. My father, as I've come to realize in the past few months, is a bully. He never has anything good to say to anyone and makes you feel stupid for having the thoughts and opinions that you do. So it was during my childhood. It's hard to live with someone who is always putting you down for everything you do. Then there was my mother. She never had anything good to say to me either. Instead she just told me I would never amount to anything. Great thing to say to your kids. So were there any good memories? Other than the fact Mom was conveniently sick for every important event that happened in my life, like the time she spent in the women's bathroom at church - the whole service - on my Confirmation, and then I was expected to wait on her at dinner. So not right. Oh yeah, I'm trying to find the good memories. Something I've been trying to do since Mom died. There was the funny incident when she showed me how to make bread by watching her. She told me to put the cake of yeast in the warm water, and then a short while later told me to put the yeast in the dough and I tried fishing the yeast out of the water. It really was funny, but my mother ridiculed me at the time. Then there was the time when she was giving me a perm and I didn't get the bottle open fast enough for her and I ended up with a bloody nose because she whacked me in the face. Oh right, good memories. How about the time I cut my bangs in Kindergarten. I got a good spanking for that one. Um. How about the humiliation of not having a Halloween costume in Kindergarten, only a mask when I went parading through the classrooms with my class. I felt terrible. Then there was the time I had summer school - not a good thing back then. I was in sixth grade and I went to summer school to improve my reading comprehension. While in summer school I had to take a series of tests. I found out afterwards they were IQ tests to determine if I was retarded. My mother asked for them to be taken. By the way the tests proved conclusively that I'm not retarded. I was never called that again by my siblings who always called me that before I took those tests. End Part 1