One night during dinner, I was sitting with my mother and she had just made a delicious roast, one of my more favorite dinners. Somehow, as we began talking, the conversation landed on the topic of my past babysitters. That is when I told her about my first babysitter and how she would lock the few other kids and myself in the basement while she did house work. I did not know at the time that what the babysitter was doing was wrong, but as I told my mom the story, it became clear to me that I should have told her much sooner than I did.
Everyday was the same, waking up around six in the morning and my mom dropping me off at the babysitters house on her way to work. Each morning, the babysitter, Becky, would make her daughter, son, and myself a mayonnaise and bread sandwich. That is it, she would cut the sandwich into four squares and serve us each four squares. We were forced to eat them and to this day I'm not sure if I actually liked the sandwiches or if I just did not want any trouble, so I ate them; but now, I can say that I cannot eat mayonnaise now or I will literally throw up on the spot.
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It's a weird feeling remembering things from your past that you didn't quite understand. Yet those memories are usually the vivid ones. For some reason, they never fade until we learn to understand them.
ReplyDeleteI liked the innocence and simplicity of your memory. It pairs well with that feeling.
I think you have a great start to your memoir, it isn't to complex and that goes well with the fact that you're writing about yourself at a pretty young age.
ReplyDeleteHi Josh:
ReplyDeleteI agree--it's a nice beginning glimpse with good detail. I just read something else about mayo sandwiches, strange. It's cool that you chose something you didn't understand at the time. What do you make of it now? How do you understand yourself more deeply?