Longing for the Sea

crib runaway

 I'm pretty sure my mom thinks I have the memory of a squirrel because she has the tendency to tell me the same story over and over and over...and over again. I've already heard these stories a million times, yet she thinks it's funny to tell them yet again.

And now I'm telling you.

Halloween

My first Halloween, I was Minnie Mouse...or was I a cat? I don't know. I was an animal of some sort. Anyway, I've had a sweet tooth for as long as I can remember; I still enjoy sweet foods to this day. And when my toddler self discovered Halloween candy, I couldn't control myself.

I got back from a hard day at work (aka a night of trick-or-treating), and I was ready to dive into my orange plastic pumpkin filled with pure sugar.

"Now, Ashley, you can only have a few pieces tonight. I'm going to put it away after that."

Yeah, right. Like you're going to snatch this pumpkin away from me.

I selected my pieces and devoured them as fast as I could. And then, my mom committed the largest act of betrayal in my entire lifetime. She took the pumpkin away.

The audacity! I lunged my plump body over the wrapped sugary goodness, and I refused to pull myself away. I was like a mother duck protecting her freshly laid eggs. Nobody, nobody, was coming between me and my candy.

My mother, of course, was able to overpower me, and she managed to pull me away from the candy. She put the container on top of the fridge, so I could no longer reach it. I glared into her eyes. How dare she?

I paused for a moment to blink. I tipped back my head. I opened my mouth. I began to wail.

I cried so hard, I'm sure I bursted a few blood vessels, caused an elderly person to lose their hearing, and caused every dog within a thousand mile radius to howl. I figured my mom would cave the moment she realized nothing she could've done would make me stop crying, but she didn't. She had quite a bit of perseverance, and she didn't give in. My dad begged her to just "Give Ashley the damn pumpkin!", but no, my mom didn't resort to such weak actions.

I cried for ages, but I soon grew tired and accepted my candyless fate.

2. The crib

I was an agile baby.

My crib was tucked into the corner of my room, but I didn't like it there. Why had my mother betrayed me (again) by not allowing me to sleep in her room? I didn't like being lonely, and my toddler self was quite the problem solver. From such a young age, I never settled for less. And that crib? Yeah, that was less.

My mother didn't see any of this happen. She was glad to finally get some sleep, being the working mother she was. She was tucked in bed, fast asleep, with not a care in the world.

Creak, creak, creak...

Boom.

My mother jolted awake. Was that sound coming from Ashley's room?

A few moments later, my vengeful toddler self barged into my mom and dad's room, narrowed my eyes, and folded my pudgy arms.

"Bad Mommy! Bad Daddy!"

My mom was dumbfounded. How had I crawled out of my own crib?

This still baffles me to this day because as a fifteen year old girl, I can hardly walk down the stairs without feeling winded. How did I have such agile parkour skills as a toddler?