scenes from a childhood, listed

I remember hating breakfast.

I remember the worn wooden dining table.

I remember when I ate red gummies with a friend, and we pretended to be vampires.

I remember freckles.

I remember thinking that cellophane was like clear construction paper that was harder to cut.

I remember losing to my father in a game of chess and then, after, crying until he let me win.

I remember guilt.

I remember quarters getting warm in my hand and wondering if they were still valid currency.

I remember pushing a red button to make the water park start.

I remember stumbling over words when giving my order to the ice cream truck for the first time, and then blushing, and then ordering something I didn’t even want but was easy to say.

I remember recorder choir.

I remember watching Austin Powers from a bean bag chair in my friend’s basement.

I remember sliding down two flights of carpeted stairs on a mattress stolen from my sister’s room.

I remember learning to use a stapler.

I remember screaming that time when the space heater I had on my wooden dresser burst into flames in the middle of the night,

I remember how the first thing my mother saved when she ran in was the designer Barbie doll,

The one I’d never touched.

I remember ripping up her sky blue dress and throwing her out my window when I thought everyone was asleep.

I remember telling her not to come back.