Memories

One: I have no distinct memories of being one year in age. I feel as though my life was a haze during that year – an experience I can imagine through the stories of others, but nothing personally vivid in my own mind. Dave, however, claims he has a memory from three months of age. I think that is bullshit, frankly.

Two: I remember when my sister, Paula, was a newborn.  Once, I attempted to hold her around her neck to show her to my mother something was wrong with her. Diarrhea dripped down her leg and I questioned why there was “mud” coming from her diaper. Aside from being mortified I was almost choking my newly-born sibling, my mother outstretched her hands to grab the poopie baby.

Three:  After taking a bath with my little sister, it was time to fish out the My Little Ponies we threw into the water.  Paula, barely one year at the time, had no control of her bodily functions (notice the trend?) and this would prove consequential to me once again.  Grazing my hand through the cloudy water, I grabbed hold of something oval in shape, thinking it was a pony.  Not surprisingly, I mistook a little Paula produced turd to be one of my beloved toys.  Shrieking and mortified, I threw it back into the tub as my mother doubled-over in uncontrollable laughter.  Paula giggled on the sidelines, too, though the hilarity of the situation soared above her intellect at the time.  I would later call her “Poopie” in life for a reason.

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