My Earliest Childhood Memory
My bank of earliest memories are from living in a ranch style house on a cul-de-sac in southern Mississippi. I was three-ish or four-ish. The photo on the top of my blog was taken from this time period, a time when I wore my Underoos on the outside of my clothes.
Though I can’t pinpoint the exact earliest registered memory, I recall a few things quite clearly and have catalogued them accordingly. I played with a few neighborhood kids, minus the girls across the street who were racists and wouldn’t let black kids on their trampoline. I dressed up our puppy, Peanut, like a baby doll and pushed him around the driveway in a carriage. I climbed magnolia trees and got excited when our babysitter drove my sister and I to the 7-Eleven in her convertible. I stowed away in the back of my mother’s car one night when she went out because I didn’t want her to leave.
At three-ish and four-ish, life was simple. I think I was a happy kid, only because I can’t remember being unhappy and no one has told me otherwise.
Underoos all the way, baby. And powder.
