That Wasn't Nice

This afternoon I wrote a post that I have since decided to retract. It kind of poked fun at my own distantly-related redneck kin, though I only ever met them once and I'm sure they don't give a rodent's backside about me or even remember my name. It was a long time ago in a place far, far away where I met my redneck relatives at a family reunion. I am positive no extended family members from way back then have read my blog or will ever read it, or for that matter, would even think to look me up. So it's HIGHLY unlikely any of them would take offense.They were strangers then and strangers now--a one-time meeting of people who just happen to be connected to me through someone's DNA, and that's where it stops.

So let me share other things. (Why is it often harder to dig up the good instead of the bad?)

Here goes a five-minute recollection post on the topic "Remember." Thanks to The Gypsy Mama for hosting. I will go alphabetically as fast as I can.

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I remember ALWAYS having to come home for dinner whenever I was at a friend's house when their dad came home. My mom told me never to invite myself to dinner, so I didn't. Not back then. But I will now because my friends are good cooks (most of them). And the whole "don't invite yourself over" thing doesn't apply to friends anyway, right?

I wore a BARRETTE on a lock of hair I pulled straight back from my forehead. I thought it was cute. Looking back, I doubt my sense of style. But I was a confident third grader, that much I can say without doubt.

I loved CEREAL. I especially loved Life cereal (and still do). It was our breakfast as well our after-school snack and sometimes before-bed snack.

I remember the time my foster brothers (who were with us for 11 months when I was 3) had to share a bike. One day the older brother was riding, took a break to come inside the house for water, and the younger one hopped on the bike. The older one saw him through the front glass DOOR, flew into a rage, and bolted through the door. I don't mean he opened it first. He charged right through the glass, shattering it into a million pieces. Blood from face to feet is the picture I still remember.


STOP.

I