I remember when I was a kid. The long, boring days of playing outside in the hot summer and playing inside in the cold winter. It was me and my sis Nichelle. Whether it was me stripping her Barbie's or her making my Transformers fall in love we always knew how to stay intertained.
We lived in a modest house with my grandparents, Joan and Robert. We lived out in the country about fifteen minutes away from everything. We lived on about nine acres of land, so needless to say most of the time we were outside if the weather permitted. We would ride bikes, play in the dirt, find neat and interesting bugs, and other normal things children who lived in the country did.
On the weekends, my grandparents would take me and my sis to Chattanooga. We always had a ritual. We would go eat some fast food and then get some groceries, with the occasional stop to get a vanilla milk shake with a cherry on top if me and Nichelle were good (most of the time we weren't).
We were always at church every time the doors were open. We went to a small, country church about fifteen minutes away from our house (EVERYTHING was fifteen minutes away). The name of the church was Gobbler's Knob Church. Pretty funny name huh? Well, the funniest thing happened recently. Actually, it was this morning. I was watching the movie "Groundhog Day," with Bill Murray, and that darn town he got stuck in was named "Gobbler's Knob!" What are the odds? Anyway, back to childhood.
We would visit our mom every other weekend. It was nice, to get away, but looking back, we had much more fun out in the country with our bugs, dirt, and Transformer/Barbie couples. On Sundays our dad would pick us up after church, and he would take us to McDonald's to get a happy meal. And if we were good (which wasn't that often) he would take us across the street to K-Mart and buy me a Transformer and Nichelle a Barbie (we really had other toys to play with, I swear). After we left K-Mart we would go to play basketball or tennis at the local elementary school (imagine playing basketball/tennis with a 6 year old and an 8 year old). I remember playing tennis with my dad. Me and my sister had a blast, but I know my dad went chasing that ball at least 100 times each time we played.
Childhood memories are great for some people. I consider myself one of the lucky ones...
We lived in a modest house with my grandparents, Joan and Robert. We lived out in the country about fifteen minutes away from everything. We lived on about nine acres of land, so needless to say most of the time we were outside if the weather permitted. We would ride bikes, play in the dirt, find neat and interesting bugs, and other normal things children who lived in the country did.
On the weekends, my grandparents would take me and my sis to Chattanooga. We always had a ritual. We would go eat some fast food and then get some groceries, with the occasional stop to get a vanilla milk shake with a cherry on top if me and Nichelle were good (most of the time we weren't).
We were always at church every time the doors were open. We went to a small, country church about fifteen minutes away from our house (EVERYTHING was fifteen minutes away). The name of the church was Gobbler's Knob Church. Pretty funny name huh? Well, the funniest thing happened recently. Actually, it was this morning. I was watching the movie "Groundhog Day," with Bill Murray, and that darn town he got stuck in was named "Gobbler's Knob!" What are the odds? Anyway, back to childhood.
We would visit our mom every other weekend. It was nice, to get away, but looking back, we had much more fun out in the country with our bugs, dirt, and Transformer/Barbie couples. On Sundays our dad would pick us up after church, and he would take us to McDonald's to get a happy meal. And if we were good (which wasn't that often) he would take us across the street to K-Mart and buy me a Transformer and Nichelle a Barbie (we really had other toys to play with, I swear). After we left K-Mart we would go to play basketball or tennis at the local elementary school (imagine playing basketball/tennis with a 6 year old and an 8 year old). I remember playing tennis with my dad. Me and my sister had a blast, but I know my dad went chasing that ball at least 100 times each time we played.
Childhood memories are great for some people. I consider myself one of the lucky ones...
