Monday, January 19, 2009

When Psycho Steaks Go Bad.

I have a few early memories lurking in the dusty corners of my brain (in between the flying licorice allsorts).

I remember a lot of our family home being built, which happened when I was two, and I distinctly remember telling one of the builders as he was putting down some tiles to set that that was what we had for breakfast. I thought the tiles in their unset state were yoghurt. I seem to remember him just nodding his head gently (obviously while making a mental note never to accept an invitation for dinner).

But I have a few memories before then. I remember having my nappies changed, I used to really like the safety pins my mother used because they had pink safety catches. I am such a girl.

I also remember charging around on my arse after my brother Sunshine before I could walk.But then, that's no biggie cause I didn't walk until I was about eleven. Sat on my arse and yapped, walking was for kids.

I think one of my earliest memories was getting a fright after having a dream. I had dreamt of the cartoon version of a steak (don't ask me where that came from, I must ask my parents if they read me bedtime stories such as Revenge of the Killer Uncooked Steak). Anyway, it had given me a hell of a scare and I was standing at the end of my cot and screaming my little lungs out. My mother came and stood beside the cot and very calmly said, 'Darling if you can't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you'. And I remember being really frustrated because I knew I wasn't capable of explaining my cartoon steak because I didn't have that language yet. So I just screamed louder. I can still remember that feeling that frustration of not being able to communicate. Possibly could explain why I stuck to talking and gave up on walking.

So there's my Monday morning talk. Anyone else have first memories to share?


Holemaster said...

That's a sign of a happy childhood LK and judging by your blog, you are a happy camper.

My early memories include being dressed in the morning by my mother

Also standing in my cot looking at my two brothers and screaming my lungs out.

Holding onto my Dad's leg while he carried me through the house.

Mystery tours around the house on his shoulders with my eyes closed (which was a way getting me to bed)

laughykate said...

I like the mystery tours, nice tactic Pa Holemaster.