Thursday, September 2, 2010

Memory Snippets - 1 & 2

Prompt: I remember tormenting...
my sister.  EVERY time I a chance presented itself to further promote her fear of the dark - I went for it.  My favorite: the basement.  I could be on the other side of the house, but if I heard my Mom say, "Christine, would you go down to the basement and get me some frozen corn from the freezer?"  I was like a thief in the night.  I would wait until she was all the way down the stairs, and then I would flee down the hallway, through the dining room and into the kitchen to the top of the stairway.  By this time, she would be at the freezer door - a ways from the bottom of the stairs, but she could hear my feet above her running across the house... and she knew what was about to happen.  Click. Lights off.  Score one for the little sister.
Diabolical? Yes.  Retaliation? Absolutely - it takes two to tango.

I remember diving...
into our municipal pool with semi-disastrous results.  I had just learned to dive and I was spending the day with a good friend who was on the city swim team - she was a fish.  We were about 11 or 12 years old.  She had been doing fancy dives off the side of the pool into the five foot deep area and I had been perfecting my cannonball.  Then came the challenge: "How about we dive in with our hands at our sides - just heads first?" said the half-dolphin friend.  "Sure," said the not-so-sure, not-so-dolphin-like friend.  So we proceed - and all went well - it was even fun! So there we are, bobbing our heads repeatedly into the cool of the pool.  No problem.  Until the last one.  And when I say last - I mean last.  I have not had the courage to dive since that tragic day.  I stood on the edge of the pool all ready to make the last one a good one.  After cutting through the water, this time I went a bit deeper than I had before, a crucial mistake.  I skimmed the stucco like surface of the bottom of the pool with the skin that is right between the mouth and nose - the mustache area. When I surfaced, I felt a little bit of stinging in that area, but just thought it was a minor scrape.  No, there was bleeding - lots.  The moral of the story: Unless, you would like to look a young lady with scab moustache for the first days of Middle School, always dive with your arms in proper position.

1 comment:

  1. Not entirely sure about this, but it could have been because of the layers of skin you left at the bottom of that pool that they no longer allow diving in the 5 ft area. Just saying.