A series of random, unconnected anecdotes from my childhood

First thing I want to say today is a few days ago, the lovely Young and Enquiring invited me to write a guest post on her blog. And I did. You can check it out here if you want to.

Anyway, on to the main part of this post!

Nothing interesting has happened in my life since the last post, apart from my cat bringing in another mouse early yesterday morning. So, since I have nothing better to write about, I'm going to make this post a collection of anecdotes from my early childhood.

Let me just say now, please don't judge me from what I was like from when I was a kid. Trust me, I've evolved. A LOT.

I'm going try and make this in chronological order, starting from when I was very young and moving forwards. However I don't have that many real memories from when I was any younger than three or four, so we'll see how this goes.

One of my earliest memories is trying to sneak into my dad's office. I wasn't allowed into my dad's office because there were all sorts of wires and cables lying around and I guess my parents were worried I'd hurt myself. I just remember my dad entering the office and not letting me in and I started crying because I wanted to. Another very early memory is of me running around in the garden in the rain after my dad, wearing a black coat and laughing like crazy.

I don't remember this, but apparently I hated getting my hair washed when I was about two or three, and my parents had to chase around after me to get me into the bathroom. Then, while my mum or dad were trying to wash my hair I'd duck from one side of the bathtub to the other, trying to avoid them catching me. Thinking about it, I have no idea how I didn't slip over and crack my head open. After a while whichever parent was with me would end up soaked through, which apparently I found hilarious, for some reason.

When I was about three or four, I was obsessed with mermaids. I wanted to BE a mermaid. Whenever a grown-up would ask me, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" I would answer very seriously, "I want to be a mermaid." Or rather, my parents would have to answer that for me, since I was so shy I ran away whenever a stranger talked to me. I guess most kids want to be doctors or teachers or ballerinas or bus drivers - not me. Being a mermaid was the career for me.

Whenever I went into the shower, I would leave a box full of my dolls on the landing just outside the bathroom. While I was showering, my dad would take some of the dolls out of the box and position them around it, as though they were trying to make their way to bathroom, where I was. Call me naive but I genuinely believed that they had moved on their own and were trying to get to me to tell me something.

Since I believed that dolls could walk around on their own, and I wanted to prove mermaids were real, I came up with a master plan. One night before I went to bed I lined all my barbie dolls up in the living room and told them, "find me a mermaid." The plan was for the dolls to go down to the river near my house and catch a mermaid and bring it to me. 100% foolproof, right? When I woke up the next morning and ran downstairs all excited I found the dolls sitting where I'd left them, with scraps of paper that had drawings of mermaids that I'd made lying on their laps. I guess my parents had come up with that solution to make sure I wasn't too disappointed when I woke up and found the living room real-mermaid-free. I was a little disappointed, but I figured I hadn't given them detailed enough instructions. I never used my dolls to carry out errands again, though.

This was also around the time that I got my all-time favourite doll, Meh. I already talked about her in a previous post, I think. She was a Little Mermaid doll but she got renamed Meh at some point. I treated her like a real person, I'd take her everywhere with me and talk to her and and dress her in some other doll's clothes. One very weird thing I did with her was that I'd push her against my nose - do not ask my why because I wouldn't be able to tell you.

I remember going to the beach in our car one summer, and the radio was on and some pop song was playing. My dad was telling my mum something about fish. And don't ask how I got it mixed up, but I thought that what my dad was saying had something to do with the lyrics of the song. So from that moment on, that song became known to me as, "The Fish Song." I actually heard it a few months ago, and I thought, "ooh, I remember this, this is the Fish Song!" And then I listened to it for a while and I realised that it had absolutely nothing to do with fish. I realised my mistake and I laughed so hard, but that song will forever be "The Fish Song" to me.

Something that happened to me that's really creepy is that I think I saw a ghost. I don't actually remember this - it's just what my mum told me. Basically, every night I would be really scared to go to sleep, and I'd say that a man would come when I was in bed, and just look at me. I described him and everything - he was bald and wore a pink shirt and denim jeans. I was super scared, I didn't want to be alone at nights. So one day my mum and I went into my room and sat down and did like a little seance - we asked the ghost to please leave and move on to the other world and what have you. And I was never scared to go to sleep again. Was he an actual ghost? Was he the product of my overactive imagination? I guess I'll never know, the lack of any actual memories is frustrating.

It always gets me how damn sexist little kids are. Where do they get it from? They're always like, "girls don't do that", "boys can't do that", "that's a girl thing not a boy thing". And I was no exception. When I was in primary school, all the girls were quiet and well behaved, and the boys were naughty and loud, and in my opinion all boys were a complete and utter waste of space. I vividly remember explaining to my dad very seriously that "girls were good" and "boys were bad" and isn't it funny that both "girls" and "good" start with the letter G and "boys" and "bad" started with the letter B. (I noticed things when I was a kid). If you asked me boys were an inferior species to girls and come on why did boys even exist. All they did was annoy people.

I wasn't just sexist, I was racist too. I vaguely remember casually talking about "black people" and "Asian people" and "normal people". WHAT THE FREAKING HELL? WHO SAID ETHNIC MINORITIES AREN'T NORMAL PEOPLE TOO? YOU RACIST LITTLE - ! Okay I can actually understand where I was coming from. I'm white and so are my parents, and in a five-year-old's perspective, you and you parents are the centre of the universe and everything you do and are is what's good and normal and anyone who isn't is strange. You see everything from your perspective, you're unable to see things from others' points of view. I didn't mean any offence or anything by saying it, but my god it sounded so WRONG. My parents were aghast: "you can't say that!"

Seriously, I was absolutely insufferable when I was a kid. And I genuinely believed I was brilliant. See, everyone loved me: I was quiet, and well-behaved, and I was smart in school. My teachers would tell me all the time what a good girl and how clever I was, leading me to the erroneous conclusion that I was amazing. I thought that I was a cut above my peers at school, that I knew everything and come on I was just the best, right? WRONG! Sure I learned to read before the other kids in my class but that didn't make me better than them! So not only was I sexist and racist, I was also a narcissist. Fab, girl, fab.

When I was about six I was obsessed with babies and small kids. I would go to the park hoping that someone would let me look after their baby for a bit. Ahem. I WAS SIX YEARS OLD. No parent in their right mind would let me look after a baby even for a SECOND. But of course, I was convinced I was so smart beyond my years, so surely they would let me, right? Again, WRONG! So I came up with a plan: I'd start my own babysitting service. The idea was that people would leave their babies or toddlers at our house for a few hours, and I'd look after them. I made posters and pamphlets advertising it. I was actually serious about starting that business. My mum realised that I wasn't just playing a "pretend" game and had to find a kind, gentle way to say, "oh HELL no!"

I got lucky, though: my mum made friends with someone who had a two-year-old son. So I no longer had to look for little kids to care for, because my mum and her friend would meet up and I'd play with and look after the kid. I guess I've been focusing a lot on my negative aspects, but I wasn't all that bad: I was kind and helpful with kids younger than me, and patient with them too. That little boy ended up being one of my closest friends; I still occasionally keep in touch with him (he's like eleven by now?).

When I was seven, my dance school organised a dance show. It was the first show I'd ever been in and I absolutely loved it, and so I became obsessed with shows. (Notice how I use the word "obsessed" a lot? That's because when I was little I never simply "liked" something, I was always obsessed.) So that summer when I went to Spain to visit family, I directed my own dance show, and forced a bunch of my aunts and my grandma to take part in it. I made up a few dances and songs and I taught it to my victims  my family, and then I made them act it out, and got my dad to record it. I had SO much fun and I was so proud of myself for organising a whole show, but looking back I realise how MORTIFYING it must have been for the family members involved.

Around that age, I had exactly two favourite films: "Bratz Babies the Movie" and a Duck Tales film whose title I don't actually remember any more. AND I WATCHED THEM OVER AND OVER AGAIN. I feel SO sorry for my parents who were forced to sit through the same dumb kids movies so many times. They must have been bored out of their minds. I think I must have watched each of them about 30 times? I'm not exaggerating. Again, the magic word, I was obsessed.

I guess kids like repetition? They can do the same things over and over and not get bored. My mum and I would play with my dolls, and basically every time we played, it would be the same story, the same events, the same conversations. And I didn't get bored, I loved it. I liked that it was repetitive.

And I guess this wraps this post up! I mean, there are about a gazillion other anecdotes I could tell but if I did this post would take about a week to write, and besides you're probably bored of listening to me talking about myself by now.

Hope you, um, enjoyed this? By the way this took me about two hours over two days to write, so what can I say you'd BETTER have enjoyed it.

Stay awesome,

-IndigoSky


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Indigo's Monthly Writing Challenge: September

"The Adventure of a Lifetime", part one: Poptropica fanfiction

"Hiding" // Short story