I combed my hair today. It reminded me of my childhood.
When I was between the ages 1-4ish I lived in a house of 4 people, plus me. It was a house in Edgar with two floors and a big yard. I lived there with my grandma, grandpa, uncle, and mom. They all kind of raised me. I like to say, it takes a village-not a Batman.
That house had a mini sandbox and a tree I sat in. I had a rickety swing set and slide attachment that was green and white. My grandpa would always take me on the lawnmower when he had to mow the lawn. It was a riding one-obviously-a John Deer, I thought.
We would go for rides and he'd pretend we were going to crash into trees and then swerve at the last second. I went to daycare, probably a mile east of that house. I liked to play in the sandbox. When my grandpa picked me up, we'd listen to the metal versions of Beethoven and I wouldn't get out of the car until we finished the song.
I remember, when I got home, I'd always have sand in my shoes. We'd stomp them out in the yard. We had a cat named Molley Bell. She died probably over five years ago. She was brown and white.
I had my own room upstairs and also a play room downstairs. I remember that my favorite thing was to go into that room when it was dark because then we'd turn on the Christmas lights we hung in there. They were red and I always thought they were the prettiest thing in the entire world.
At one point, they turned this front patio thing into a little office for my uncle. I watched anime with him in there. I also remember watching thundercats in the living room.
I was a strange child. I never wanted to get into baths and when I got in, I didn't want to leave. They had to beg me to get in and then set a timer shaped like a chicken for me to get out. I remember being convinced that if I shook my head in the water, I'd come out with curly hair.
After having a bath, my grandpa would comb my hair. Obviously, my grandma or mom would've gladly done it, but they would've brushed my hair, and that hurt. They didn't have the paciente to comb my hair like grandpa did. Then, when it was time to go to bed, grandpa would sing to me. I had a special song. It's called Close Your Eyes.
My mom always said that I was so lucky that grandpa sang to me. She said that the last time she heard him sing was in the church choir, which didn't count in her mind. Years later, she told me when I was warming up for a solo and ensemble performance that when I sing in my alto register, I sound like grandpa. I think that's one of the best compliments I've ever gotten.
I moved into my first step dad's first house when I was probably 5. I moved into my first step dad's second house when I was 7ish. I know I was living in the apartment for the first time when I was at least 9 but there was a passing time in between that when we lived with my grandma and grandpa until we found the apartment.
This was 3rd grade. I was kind of being bullied at that time by a person who is now my friend. I'd go to bed crying every night and grandpa would stay up and talk to me. When I was done crying, he'd sing my song to me until I fell asleep. He did this every night. He even kept combing my hair.
I love my grandpa. He's the closest thing to a father figure I have.
At this point, I'd have to wake up really early to go to school since their house was so far from my school. This is probably where my sleeping issues started getting a lot worse-she types at 1:12am on a school night.
Once we found an apartment, we didn't stay there long because we found out our roommate was a druggie/alcoholic. We moved back into my grandma and grandpa's house until we could kick him out.
My grandparents always said that they wanted three kids. My grandma only gave birth to 2, but they got what they wanted.
She's so pretty. Pretty like red Christmas lights.
