Conflicting Childhood Memory

I was about 6 years old when I had my tonsils removed. 

Mom picked me up from the hospital and the first place she took me was an ice cream shop.  She said I could have anything in the store and I could eat as much ice cream as I wanted. 

I had so many conflicting feelings at that moment and it was hard for my little brain to contemplate them all.

A part of me was elated.  This was like a dream come true.  However, a part of me was dejected.  My throat was so sore, I didn’t feel like eating anything. 

I finally decided to get an ice cream sandwich, which I ate with great difficulty and little sadness.

This is one of those childhood memories that will forever be burned into my mind.

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The Power of Memories

Some memories are unforgettable, remaining ever vivid and heartwarming.  – Joseph B Wirthlin 

The most beautiful things are not associated with money; they are memories and moments.  If you don’t celebrate those, they can pass you by.  – Alek Wek

Memories of our lives, of our works, and our deeds will continue in others.  – Rosa Parks

Favorite Childhood Memory – Fishing in the Bathtub

Today is Aaron’s birthday.  He would have been 42 years old.  I thought I would honor the day by sharing one of our adventures together as children.

During the summer of 1988, my brother and I spent most of our free time exploring the woods and playing in a creek.

One day, we were hanging out in the woods and fishing.  We had a bucket full of fish, but it started to rain.  Neither one of us wanted to leave, since we were having so much fun.

I suggested we take the bucket of fish home and put the fish in our bathtub.  That way we could continue having fun while we were at the house.  Aaron thought it was a great idea, so that’s what we did.

My mom came home from work, as she passed by the bathroom, she saw Aaron sitting on the toilet with a fishing pole.  She went into the bathroom to find out what in the world her son was doing.

When mom looked into the bathtub, she went ballistic.  She started yelling at both of us to get those **** fish out of the there.

We put the fish back into the bucket and walked down the street.  We decided to release the fish in our neighbor’s pound.  Once we got home, Mom made us scrub the bathtub multiple times with several different cleaning solutions.

Personally, I think she may have overreacted just a little bit.