Little me in the centre.

((I’m a “little” behind on my #Write31Days, but I’ll catch up.))

I remember being little.

I remember the feeling of being the youngest, the only one of my siblings not yet in school.
I remember my mom and I going to the wading pool and having to make friends with the other little kids who were there on their own with their mothers.

I remember my dad teaching me how to spell my name on my Lite-Brite one evening, after he had come home from a long day working on the farm.

I remember getting up so early that it was dark outside to watch morning cartoons with my brother and sister—the bright, flashing lights reflecting off of our enraptured faces. Spider-man was the best!

I remember the feeling of success after learning how to tie my shoes.
I remember kids camps and family camps and day camps.
I remember taking the bus to school and feeling so small in those big green seats, my feet dangling, my face barely high enough to see out the window.

I remember the fear then thrill of learning how to swing super high then launch myself off the swing, feeling like a super hero.

I remember learning how to tell time on a clock.

I remember Pet Day in Grade One, where several hundred kids brought their cats and dogs to school for a “Pet Parade” in the gym. I remember how my farm cat, Cuddles, whom I’d probably never actually cuddled before, freaked out and had to stay in the van.

I remember playing so hard that I’d always rip my shirt, or dress or somehow get grease on pants.

I remember being bold and asking lots of questions but learning how to feel the tension enough to know when not to ask them.

I remember making our own bows and arrows at the lake.
I remember stories from my grandfather on road trips or in their backyard in the old army tent.

I remember getting in trouble, a lot. I remember it was almost always an accident or not my fault.
I remember adults getting angry at me but others standing up for me, because I was a good kid at heart.

I remember being little, small, young, the youngest, yet confident, sure of myself, blunt.

I remember that little girl.

I’m trying to make sure some of that confident little girl stays with me, always.


This has been a writing prompt post from #Write31Days, join in the fun. 

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