The RemembeRed memoir assignment this week, from Write on Edge, is to write a memoir beginning with the words, “I miss my childhood…” Word limit, 500.
I miss my childhood.
Actually, no I don’t.
I’ve been wracking my brain for two days trying to make this writing prompt work for me, but seriously, I just can’t seem to find those rose-colored glasses. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my childhood. It was balanced with education and after school activities. I had lots of general friends and even an amazing best friend. My parents are still happily married and both of my brothers are still my friends. My grades were decent and eventually, I did, graduate college.
- I don’t miss being told, “No you can’t take communion” by Sister Anna Rose because “Only baptized children are children of God” and yet, I got to play Mary in the school play every year because I had the longest hair.
- I don’t miss being scolded by Mr. Minor in 4th grade for trying to help Maria with our class project. He said I had ugly handwriting and that it would ruin our project.
- I don’t miss being the hairiest kid in middle school and have to answer questions like, “Do you have a mustache?” or “Are you growing a jungle under there?” I should have owned stock in Nair and Bic razors, or maybe not worn sleeveless shirts and shorts.
- I don’t miss having to eat food I don’t like just because, “Your mother slaved all day in the kitchen making that”.
- I don’t miss having a curfew or phone restrictions or limits on the number of friends I can invite over to spend the night. (Shhh, don’t tell my mom, but there’s a boy in my bed every night.)
- I don’t miss crying over broken hearts and acne.
- I don’t miss pop quizzes in math class, weird embarrassing talks about sex and STD’s or figuring out where to eat in the cafeteria.
- I don’t miss having someone else pay for my mortgage, transportation, birthday parties and clothes. OK, I might miss the mortgage part, but not the asking for money part.
- I don’t miss most of my boyfriends.
- I don’t miss working at Little Caesar’s Pizza washing mounds of greasy pans while the rest of my friends were at football games my senior year.
- I don’t miss fights with my best friend because we liked the same boy.
- I don’t miss being grounded.
- I don’t miss the anxiety and the angst of worrying I’ll never figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Besides, I have two daughters. I get to relive most of this through their eyes.