Hitchhiking back home because we walked too far and we were late for dinner. Six and seven years old.
Staying awake all night, going to 7-11 to buy junk food. Stay up, eat it, wait for the milkman to come and run around the neighborhood stealing milk. Sometimes mom waking in the middle of it all telling us to get inside and us running for dear life, laughing and saying, "noooo" (giggle, giggle) Around seven and eight years old.
Ditching school with our big brother as the ring leader. Going to the laundry mat where my sister said, "there was all kinds of fun to be had."
Putting our little brother in large dryers, pushing each other around in the laundry carts. Eleven, seven, six and four years old.
Having Cinemax in our room growing up, getting a way too early lesson by watching movies like "Lady Chaderly's lover." Always.
Toilet papering our neighbor's house across the street and realizing she'd know it was us, so toilet papering our own - then getting caught.
These are the stories I am falling asleep to.
These are the tales my sister told me tonight and despite the fact that I am supposed to be the storyteller, I can't remember a thing about.
If you asked me what my childhood was like, I would say not tragic but ignored. I would say we raised ourselves. All five of us and that's sadly the truth.
I would sigh in relief we all turned out pretty good considering.
There are so many more that even now as I sit in bed, I can't remember.
Everytime I come to Merced and stay with my older sister by one year, Nettie, I get a glimpse into my past, a childhood that to this day, I cannot remember.
There are little bits here but hardly anything really. And as far as long stories about scenarios and moments both mischevious and hilarious, I couldn't tell you.
It's a strange thing I never really explored or that has seemed to bother me.
Not remembering I mean.
But I suppose the older I get, the more I realize if I can't remember not only the stories but my childhood now, I never will. And like my sister said, without siblings, I'd have no history.
So after a belly-laughing conversation and bonding with my wonderful sister, I am excited to see what I will dream.
I am kind of hoping she planted a seed and maybe some great story or memory will just play itself out like a movie.
I would love to know what it was like to be me as a kid. I have no idea, no recollection at all.
Anyway, what were we doing staying up all night going to convenience stores, stealing the neighborhoods milk and hitchhiking back home at six and seven?
Where was everyone?
