Ok, it's been awhile since I posted last. I guess I came across a little writer's block while scrambling in between work, school, social commitments, and keeping my husband happy and content.
I'm feeling a little melancholy right now. Sometimes I wish I could go back to a simpler time in my life, back when I thought a budget was a kind of bird, and thought that my clothes just magically reappeared in my drawer all clean and folded automatically.
Today I spent the majority of the day catching up on housework that I have been letting pile up for a week or two. After a long day of dishes, vacuuming, and laundry, I was cutting up a watermelon to enjoy with David, and wallowing in memories from my childhood:
Missing Mom's "home-cooked" summer meals consisting of a can of condensed soup and a gigantic slice of watermelon.
Walking by the kitchen and seeing my skinny sister with a hollow leg getting all the last scrapings out of the rind.
Wandering through my dad's home-grown watermelon patch, with leaves bigger than my face, and looking for the tee-tiny watermelons, anticipating the deliciousness in the near future.
Sitting on the old picnic table in the back yard with my sister when I was about five, and each of us having a slice of one of Dad's watermelons that was so big I had to rest it on my knees in between bites.
Having a contest with my sister that night to see who could spit watermelon seeds at the dozen cats we owned and actually hit them. They were too good at dodging for us most of the time.
Eating the last couple bites of the Hamburger Helper when my brother wasn't looking, and then when he heatedly asked where it went (since his raging adolescent football-player appetite hadn't been satisfied yet with three heaping helpings) blaming it on my skinny sister, and watching her get called Miss Piggy shamefacedly.
Watching movies with my family on school nights, even though I knew I should be getting my homework done, and feeling happy that we were all doing something together without anyone getting angry at someone else for at least a couple of hours.
Getting called a bum-bum head by the little boy who lived behind us because I didn't want to play his stupid game.
Having to listen to him and his mother argue about whether or not my head actually looked like a bum-bum. She was determined to convince him that he was wrong so he would apologize, and he was determined not to apologize.
Dancing around the yard, holding a cat above my head, and chanting Ooga-chaka like a little heathen. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't think we were devil worshippers. I blame it on the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie we watched- it was a bad influence.
Always wanting to put my Barbies in a different outfit than the current one, being able to get the clothes off, and only being able to get the new clothes partly on. My dolls ended up being in a perpetual state of nakedness or mooning one another.
Wishing there was a way to get engraved underwear off the Barbie so I could change that, too. I probably wouldn't have been able to get the new underwear on her anyway.
Getting a kick out of making a loud noise and scaring my dad to death after he had been on the toilet long enough to relax during his extended bathroom trips. And yet he didn't get mad at me when I did that- I think he was just so glad that the house wasn't really falling to pieces.
Back rubs from Mom that would sometimes last as long as a movie. Hers were the best, because she always chewed her nails down to nubs, so her back scratches were more like light massages. But if you actually wanted a massage, she would swear she didn't have the faintest clue as to how to give one.
There are so many more things I could write down, but for tonight I'm out of steam. This will have to do until later.