OK... Earliest memory....I grew up kind of white trash, for those who don't already know me. We never had much money, and it was the country, so things were pretty funny sometimes. In hindsight, some would say I should be ashamed of the way I was raised. I don't think so. It made me who I am today. Who am I to complain.
I was in the bathtub with my sisters. I was probably only 2 or 3. I remember my sisters all screaming like the room had suddenly burst into flames. They were scared. Panic set in, and they all ran from the room. Leaving me there, alone. I didn't know why they ran away. I wasn't scared at all.
After a minute or two, my mom came for me. There I was, playing with my turd like a toy boat. Not a care in the world. Happy. Content. Country as fuck.....And liking it.
2 comments:
This is weird, last nigh I had this talk with my hubby, he told me all about his embarrassing poop stories, too bad they didn't end when he was 2 or 3. LOL
After reading this story, I have the feeling my hubby Chuck is really gonna enjoy reading your blog! :)
Post a Comment