I was a delinquent in my youth. Yes, Miss. Prim and Proper, Miss. Everyone-must-follow-the-rules, Miss. The-worse-thing-I-could-have-done-to-anyone-was- to-stick-out-my-tongue-at-them, was a delinquent.
When I was in 3rd grade, we lived in a house in North Lewisburg. Memories of this place are very vague~~hey! I was only 8~~ save 2 very vivid ones.
1. I stole .78 from my teacher Mrs. Smith’s desk. I don’t remember taking it, but I do remember my parents finding the money. I had hidden it in my dresser drawer. The same dresser that the girl now uses. I don’t know why I had stolen the money, but dad came with me to school to make me return it. Thanks dad. If it weren’t for you, I might have been a jewel thief, or bank robber, or in Europe somewhere dabbling in espionage, drugs, and the mafia.
The second most vivid memory of that place was the dream. I had overheard a conversation between my parents about the fact that the house had termites. To a child of 8, and only knowing that termites ate wood, this was very frightening, and I began to have “the dream”.
My sister and I slept on white bunk beds. I on the top and she on the bottom. In the more horrific version of this dream, the termites had munched the floor of our bedroom so much that the weight of our bed caused the floor to collapse, only underneath our bed, and we both went down into the pit. The pit was a bad place full of creepy, crawly termites, dirt, grime and spiders. We couldn’t get out. I would begin to suffocate and then wake up. To this very day, anything that is creepy or crawly has my instant disdain, abhorrence, and I commit murder on them any time I can. Sorry dad, you didn’t get all the delinquent out of me.
The second version of the dream, dad and I were in the house and the termites had munched at the floor so much that we heard creaking and groaning. Dad told me to stand in the doorway and hold on to the sides. Just as I got to the doorway, all of the floor gave way save the thresholds where we were standing.
I have never been one to remember much. I live life, and most of the details are quickly forgotten. That is why I love pictures so much. They bring back the memories for me. I don’t know many other people like that. I guess I just take life as it comes and remember only the big things. Like creepy crawlies, like thieving .78, like having the entire upstairs as our play house, getting a baton as a just-because gift, and getting stung by a wasp on my back in during evening devotions. I loved living in that house, but I hated the termites that had me terrified every night.
What do you remember from when you were 8?