Memories

    Getting older, you start to reflect more and more on your life. The things you could have been, the good times you had that you can't get back, the people you've met. Some should go fuck themselves and others, you wish were still around.
     I remember......


    It's November. I'm stuck at the house 'cause my momma is havin' a baby. Don't know why we need some ol' baby anyway. Aren't I enough? I think I'm going to take Margie (that's my great grandma, but she won't let me call her grandma or granny so I call her Margie and she's okay with that) to the dog pen. I don't have a clue why I love it there so much (maybe 'cause I want a doggie and not some do-nothin' brother...yelch) So we trek it out there. All I can really do is point and tell Margie "Doggie"? "Doggie"?. "Yes Mandy, that's a doggie". But, I love it. Seein' those dogs  is my absolute favorite thing in the world. And Margie? She's my absolute favorite person to do it with. She walks a few feet behind me so I can skip if I wanna, or I can pick up a rock if I wanna. With my Momma it's all "Amanda, don't get too far ahead" "Amanda, don't pick up that nasty thing" "Amanda, don't you skip too fast or you'll fall down".  Not with Margie, my Margie loves me.
      After going to see the dogs Margie gets a call from the hospital. It's my Daddy. Momma had the baby and we need to come up there to see the ol' fart. Margie gets me ready but we can't leave just yet. We haveta wait for PawPaw. (Margie can drive, she only got her license when she was 21 but I don't think she likes it much). I don't like the hospital. It smells like dirty socks and old people. I'm so tired from my walkin' to the dog pen and back, I don't wanna go and see my brother. I wanna go home, I wanna go home with Momma. I start to pitch a fit but Margie bends down, looks me in the eye and says "Mandy, you stop that bein' ugly, Jesus is watchin' you and he doesn't want to see you being ugly, you hear?" I do anything my Margie asks me, I put on my big girl face and walk with her to my Mommas room. Soon as I walk in my Daddy grabs me up ('cause I'm his favorite, ain't no little baby gonna change that). He tells me how much he misses me and that he'll be coming home soon with Momma and the baby (Avery is his name). I kiss my Daddy and then look down at my Momma. She is holdin' this little tiny bundle with a squished pink face. Looks like they been tryin' to get him to eat that ol' nasty squash too (I make that same squished face when they try to make me eat it) I don't say nothin' for a minute and my Momma gets a worried look on her face. "What do you think Mandypoo"?, my Momma says. I still don't say nothin', everyone can tell I'm thinkin' real hard about it. Finally, I look right at my little brother, tiny like my baby dolls at home, squash eatin' pink face and I say "It's a dog!"


One of my very first memories. Of course I elaborated the dialogue and all. I think this will be the basis of my blog. To recollect the important memories in my life and try to tell a story with them. Much more to come.