My Earliest Memory

I am not very good at remembering things. I am challenged to remember things that happened only moments ago. In fact, I had a dream last night supporting this very fact. I dreamt that I couldn’t remember where I lived or where I was going. I would forget things only a moment after they happened…and I would tell you more about it – IF I REMEMBERED IT.

I don’t know when I started forgetting things…my mom used to tell me I had the best memory ever. So somewhere along the way I seem to have broken it.

Because of this little memory issue, I am not sure when my earliest memory is. There are some events that I remember, but perhaps just from hearing the stories about them so many times. Like the time my brother dropped the crowbar on my foot when I was three and he broke my toe. I am not sure that I really remember the event so much, but think that maybe I have made up images in my head to go with the stories.

I think the one of the most vivid, real, early memories was around 4 or 5 years old. My mom had been divorced for a year or two and was finally embarking on the dating scene. She had covered all of the bases. New dress, check. Makeup, check. Poofy hair, check. Babysitter, check. She had asked her friend Tish from the hospital to babysit us. Tish was in her 20’s, responsible, nice, fun…had most things in her favor. The only problem was the she didn’t really know what she was getting herself into. She had never experienced a terror like my brother and I. She really can’t be blamed for what was about to happen.

My mom left all of the usual information – name of restaurant, doctor’s number, police number, fire number, closest relative, neighbor’s number, hospital number and she left. She left the spawn of Satan with poor, unexpecting Tish.

Tish: sitting in the family room reading some dopey magazine
My Brother: investigating the fireplace in the living room, looking very mischievous
Me: following my brother around like his shadow, because that is what I did best

Tish: oblivious to the sneaking and trickery going on in the next room
My Brother: hiding in the fireplace, pushed up against the very edge behind the small brick wall so that he could not be seen from outside the fireplace
Me: standing inside the fireplace, hidden on the other side like his shadow, because that is what I did best

Tish: beginning to wonder why it was so very quiet in the house, beginning to looking for us
My Brother: silent, hiding in the fireplace
Me: silent, hiding in fireplace like my brothers shadow, because that is what I did best

Tish: after looking for over an hour…upstairs, in the basement, in the closets, in the garage, at the neighbors, in our rooms…after looking EVERYWHERE, calls my mother. She is crying as she calls my mom at the restaurant and tells her that she has lost us – we are gone - perhaps kidnapped. She is truly freaking out.
My Brother: silent, hiding in the fireplace – smiling ear to ear
Me: silent and grinning, hiding in fireplace like my brothers shadow, because that is what I did best
My mom: madder than a bat out of hell.

My mom came home, stood in the living room, and shouted in her loudest most angry evil-mother voice GET OUT HERE NOW!

We came out of the fireplace, covered head to toe in soot.

My mom's date was over - at 7:00, Tish went home - at 7:00, and we went to bed – at 7:00.


Flash forward a month or two later. The memories of the last dating disaster had faded a bit and my mom decided it was time to try again. After convincing Tish to PLEASE COME BACK AND WATCH MY BRATTY KIDS ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR THEY WILL BE GOOD...and threatening us within an inch of our lives, my mom set out on her date.

Tish: sitting in the family room reading yet another magazine
My Brother: playing in the living room, chasing me - around the small square coffee table in front of the sofa
Me: playing in the living room, running away from brother – around the small square coffee table in front of the sofa

Tish: continuing to read her magazine in the living room, hearing us laugh, thinking what sweet children we are
My Brother: sitting on the sofa very quickly, putting his feet on the small square coffee table in front of the sofa, pretending to be an evil troll…demanding that I pay the toll to go through
Me: ignoring the evil troll, running right into my brothers legs, breaking my fall on the corner of the small square coffee table in front of the sofa – with my head

Tish: running to see what the horrible noise and screaming is all about
My Brother: staring at me in horror imagining the trouble we are about to be in
Me: laying on the floor bleeding all over my mom’s white shag carpet, screaming bloody murder
My mom: madder than a bat out of hell – again

Tish called my mom at the restuarant - again. My mom came home - again. Stood in the middle of the living room – again. And yelled at us – again.

My mom's date was over - at 7:00, Tish went home - at 7:00, and I went to the hospital for stitches at 7:00.

Tish never babysat for us again. Ever.