Memory Meme

I didn’t expect to write again until after the holiday but I just caught that I’ve been tagged by the not so ordinary ordinary girl with a memory meme. The rules are:
1. Describe my earliest memory where the memory is clear, and where “clear” means I can depict at least three details.
2. Give an estimate of my age at the time.
3. Tag five other bloggers with this meme.

Alright, I guess I’ll play along. Most of my earliest memories involve running from my mother who had a wooden spoon in her hand. Yes, there are times when an Italian mother looking for you with a spoon in her hand is not a warm, pleasant memory of pampering and delicious food. No, this was an instrument of dispensing justice as well as gravy. Obviously nothing has changed in me, for I still to this day stir a reaction in people that makes them want to reach for things to throttle me with.

Well the memory of mine I’ll share today was when I was about 3. Mind you, I was a relatively inexpensive kid as far as entertaining went because instead of gobs of toys, I was content with art supplies. The downside of that is when my inner artist drove me to go beyond my boundaries in order to fully express myself. Such was the case one day with a bottle of Elmer’s glue. Ah, I still remember the fascination I had watching it pour out. Well why not combine this excitement with all the other things I enjoy? Made sense then. So I proceeded to squeeze out the glue over everything in the living room. As I just finished drizzeling it over the last of the piano keys, I was suddenly interrupted by the most terrifying scream I have ever heard in my life. When I turned to see it emanated from my mother, and seeing the look in her eyes, I knew instantly my passion for Elmer’s glue was going to cost me. I hopped on my horsey (a plastic horse with wheels) and tried scooting away but it was too late. SLAP! It was so fast. I think I heard it and saw the red outline of my mother’s hand traced in red on my fat little thigh before I even felt it. Oh but when I felt it, yeesh! Apparently my deed called for such an urgent response that there was simply no time for the wooden spoon, the kitchen instrument I had grown to develop such a love-hate relationship with.

Alrighty, now who get’s to be tagged? Well I reach for my wooden spoon and tag the following bloggers:
The Lifeguard
Vince of Non Credo Deus
The Chaplain

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9 Responses to “Memory Meme”

  1. Argh! 4 years on Xanga and never got tagged, 6 months here and I’ve been tagged twice.
    I too am Italian, hence the name, and therefore had the Italian mom. Her weapon of choice was an 18 inch metal reinforced ruler. Its not my earliest memory, but I do remember I could always hear that kitchen drawer open a special way when I was in trouble, (the drawer where the ruler was kept)and then slammed shut. I became pretty good at being elsewhere when I heard that sound.

  2. There was one time I did something, I forget what, but I knew it was bad, so I went to the drawer and broke the wooden spoon. My pre-emptive strike just made matters worse. First there was one scream, then the 2nd after discovering the spoon. Whatever happened next is now lost to me, no doubt repressed somewhere deep and dark in my mind.

  3. Well, how about that! We just met yesterday at The Exterminator’s blog and you’ve already tagged me! Okay, I’ll play. Check out my blog tomorrow.

  4. Well, I’ve heard of people who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. I guess in your case, you were born with a wooden spoon on your ass.

    It’s hard for me to imagine a time when you wouldn’t have deserved exactly whatever you got.

  5. Chaplain – you know you can’t just stick your big toe in the water and swoosh it around. You have to jump in. So I saw you there at the edge of the pool and thought I’d push. :)

    Yes Ex, I’ve always driven those around me crazy. It’s mostly been a curse all my life but I’ve come to embrace it as a gift.

  6. OK, I’m starting to feel a little better about spinning in circles until I hurled.

  7. You poured glue on a piano? I could forgive the other surfaces you decided to embellish with Elmer’s, but I just don’t know about the piano.

    By the way, I finished my tag, and there are even pictures.

  8. I think I poured glue on the piano keys precisely because I loved them. I always enjoyed the look and feel of the piano keys and as I poured glue over them, it was like stroking them. I think that I was born with many characteristics that are the foundation for being an artist, one of which is innately feeling things I hold as extensions of myself. So as I poured the glue, the satisfaction was twofold. First I had the joy of watching the glue pour out and then the other and simultaneous sensation was stroking the keys with the the ribbon of glue.

    Over the years studying both visual arts as well as sports and martial arts, I’ve heard this sensation described as something that was necessary to learn. No doubt you’ve heard people say things like “be one with the” whatever. Perhaps be one with the car when learning to drive or park, be one with the bat playing baseball. Another way of phrasing it is to say make whatever you’re controlling be an extension of your arm, your hand, or just you. I feel lucky I never had to learn this, that it’s always been natural for me. Of course the trade off for this gift is pouring glue over piano keys as a toddler. Personally, I feel the pros have far outweighed the cons.

  9. “I think I poured glue on the piano keys precisely because I loved them.” Seems like a fetish to me Philly. I hope your wife likes you little ways of showing love. LOL

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