Memoir Prompt: Day 9: 8. Write about being 8 years old. Do you remember? Where did you live? Who were your friends? What did you do? What were you siblings like? What did your mom do? What did your dad say? What did you hope for?
Being 8 was being in Mrs. Hutchens' second grade classroom. I remember her as being blonde and fairly round- not necessarily heavy but in the plump, matronly kind of way that kids perceive pretty much all women of a certain age. I'm guessing she was probably in her early fifties.
Being 8 was still playing hard at recess. It never occurred to us girls to just stand around and titter about the boys.. nope, we were all in.
Being 8 was having a crush on both Grant Lindsey and Derek Langford. Oh, and Peter Ellison too!
Being 8 was cheating at school for the first time (yes, I said the first time. I admit it.) and lying to my teacher.
Being 8 was being clueless enough to tell my Mom, on the drive home, what I had done, not as a confession but as a story of my success.
Being 8 was realizing that was really dumb when your Mom turns the car around and takes you back into the school so you can apologize to the teacher.
(Well done, Mom. Exactly the right move.)
Being 8 was a hot summer in Texas, with watermelon on the Fourth of July and seed spitting contests using the big black seeds, then watching fireworks and holding sparklers, feeling like the luckiest kid in the world.
Being 8 was living in that childhood space where life wasn't yet complex.. I was vaguely aware of adult problems but they had nothing to do with me. Being 8 was living the freedom of childhood and being blissfully unaware of the changes the next few years would bring.
Being 8 was pretty darn awesome.
Live in Thanksgiving.
22 hours ago