Saturday, November 3, 2007

False Childhood Memories

These are memories of my childhood--or were until one day the wafted through my mind and I thought, "Um..."

When I was about four, I stepped out onto the back steps of our American Fork house and a bumblebee the size of a cat flew by my nose.

One night, driving down the freeway with mom, someone fired shots at us. Mom looked grimly in the rearview mirror and told me to lie down.
(I checked this one with mom, just in case there was some skeleton in our family closet. She denies the entire incident.)

Mom used to give us the beaters to lick after she made cake or whatever, and I always hated the way you couldn't really get good licks on that center prong. Once I twirled my beater around and around, rotating its base in my fingers, until the outer prongs magically parted and I could reach the center one. For some time after, I always spun my beater, trying to repeat the magic.

Once--apparently in a fit of girliness--I kissed the picture of Sleeping Beauty in my storybook. A crown appeared on her head where my lips had touched.

Am I the only one with false childhood memories?

6 comments:

  1. No. I "remember" looking down from the "Y" on the mountain and seeing some Indians doing a rain dance. Complete with feathers, costumes, and drums. My sister constantly teases me about it and I still insist that it really happened. Just to bug her. ;)

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  2. I swear I remember you protecting me during an earthquake. But I think in truth the earthquake I am thinking of happened when I was like a year old. So that's probably one of those false memories brought on by hearing a story told too many times.

    I used to believe that I literally had four eyes when I turned out the light at night. I could touch the corner of each eye and count - four.

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  3. At least you are 50/50 good to bad in your false memories. I would worry if they were all bad ones.

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  4. I remember that while visiting DC at 5 years old I slid down the railing at the Lincoln Memorial and had to get stitches and I remember the wallpaper at the doctor's office. Apparently I did slide down the railing, but all I needed was a bandaid. Where did the ugly wallpaper memory come from then? (I prefer the stitches version--much more exciting)

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  6. Last week in Illinois we had breakfast with my parents and my brother Carl who wears a beard. Leah thought he was Jesus. Her whole life she will now have the false memory of that one time she had breakfast with Jesus.

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