I'm mentally retracing my steps to see how it is that I've come to be the me that I am. Specifically, I'm curious why I'm so bewitched by sweets!sugar!bonbons! I didn't grow up baking blueberry pies with my grandmother, and I can't recall any "aha!" moment with a chocolate chip cookie. Perhaps it has something to do with...
-I remember a special day when I was a little girl with thin dark brown hair that curled at the ends. I got a splinter in my finger. My very first goshdarn splinter, and my dad took me for an ice cream cone.
-When I fell off a boardwalk at the ripe age of 6 (stop laughing, you!), I tumbled down a wee cliff and broke my left arm. I was given a hot bath, a trip to the emergency room, and all the candy I could fit in a large station wagon. I was the Candy Queen.
-A pesky baby tooth fell from my gums and its empty spot bled for 6 long days. Milkshakes, milkshakes, milkshakes. Food for healing my wounded mouth? (shakes head back and forth.) Food for healing my soul.
By George, I've got it. Yummies turn my frown upside-down.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
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2 comments:
haha dad snuck a cheeseburger into the hospital when i broke my wrist -- did i even eat cheeseburgers when i was 8?
to be honest, i can't remember ever being given sweets when i got hurt but it might be because you're the baby :)
HAHA Alison got sweets when she was hurt and Lili got meat :)
You both are funny :)
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