To Have That Imagination Again...
Before my parents got gas heat in their house, we used to have a huge wood furnace in the basement that I remember someone always having to fill with wood. This thing was huge, and noisy. I remember during the night, it would be so quiet in the house, and then I would hear the furnace kick in and it would seem so loud, like huge bangs of metal for some reason. I always thought this was the Tin man from the Wizard of Oz coming up the stairs to get me.
When I was old enough to get up on my own in the mornings, I would always eat the same thing. I would get a juice box and cut several pieces of cheddar cheese, then head into the living room to watch tv. I would drink the juice box, then poke the cheese with the straw, until it was full of cheese. Then I'd put it in my mouth, and slide my teeth down the straw, forcing all the cheese out. Then I'd do it all over again. I'd leave the little bits of cheese that I couldn't get into the straw on my plate.
My dad has a big shop in the basement (it's also where the huge scary furnace was located), and lots of times it gets used for storing things. I remember when I got too tall to ride this little rocking horse thing, and my dad took it into the shop and hung it on the wall until he could store it properly. One time I was down there, and I happened to look into the darkened shop on my way up the stairs, and I could see the eyes on that horse shining back at me. I turned and ran screaming up the stairs, thinking that horse was possessed and about to kill me.
Even now, at 28, I still run up the stairs like something is going to come out of that shop and get me.
When it was winter, if it was ever snowing and we were driving somewhere at night, I would always pretend that the snowflakes were arrows being shot at our vehicle. Since Monica was almost always with me, we would shout out orders to each other: There's one coming in from the left side! Watch out! There's a whole bunch coming from the east!!!
In reality, there were like 4 billion snowflakes flying at us, so if they really were arrows we would surely be dead.
And this last one is actually a memory about Monica...
I went to a Catholic school, Monica went to public school. Because of this, she had to take catechism classes before church on Sundays. Sometimes, my family would go to church in a different town, because then we'd meet up with my mom's family, and all go for breakfast afterward.
Since Monica's sisters were older, they didn't need to take catechism, so they would often come with my family to church in the neighbouring town. In reality they just wanted to come for breakfast, because my dad would let them eat whatever they wanted, and buy us all a treat after.They both always picked Skor bars for their treats. And do you know why?
Well I'll tell you.
Because they would spend the trip home licking all the chocolate off the hard toffee part, then when they got home and Monica asked them what they were eating, they would tell her it was crispy bacon left over from breakfast, and she believed them! She didn't like bacon, so was never as upset when she couldn't come with us, because she thought all she was missing was bacon.
LOL - poor Monica, I still don't think she knows the truth...