My childhood was pretty amazing to be honest. There were a few things, major things that were huge obstacles to get through but overall, I have a lot to be thankful for.
Most of my childhood memories include my two cousins, who are my best friends, my life. Now, as you read this, you will laugh and you will judge, but really - I don’t mind!
My first Childhood memory however is one with my family, our first trip to Lebanon. I remember my mom holding me as we walked down the steep dirt roap towards my grandparents house. I was about 4 years old and in a second was ripped out of my mothers hands by my aunt, who had never seen me until then. She grabbed me and ran around the street as if I was a princess, or simba or something. “The girl is here! Oh my god! The girl is here!!” Thinking back, it was kind of embarrassing. That night my mom put me to sleep, lit the anti mosquito thing and went downstairs to sit with everyone. Little did they know, the window was closed, the room had filled with smoke and I was STILL there. Hours later my mom comes to check on me and I didn’t respond, so she rips me out of bed and down stairs screaming “The girl is dead the girl is dead!” Ironic. So they rush me to some lady’s house (no, not a hospital, a lady’s house) and they decide to try to wake me by splashing a bucket of ice cold water at me and- here I am today!
My second childhood memory makes me feel smart and is one that my dad still tells, so yeah, it kind of boosts my ego. I was about 3 or 4 years old and we were going to visit some family friends. My dad, on the phone with his friend, asks for the address and writes it down. I was in my moms room getting dressed to go play with their kids. We get in the car and are in their area and my dad remembers that he forgot the paper and has no idea where they lived. I hop out of my seat and recite the address. My dad’s head must have spun a full 360 degrees because he looked at me like I was a genius. I still remember the address and still enjoy hearing my dad tell people I was a genius from the start.
My third memory, is a collage of several little ones- I will call them, the nightmare. Every Holloween we would go trick or treating, come home, separate the chips, chocolate and candy. We’d pull out a drawer from our dresser and hide all of our candy behind it. One day, long after Holloween, I wanted to get a lollipop so I opened the drawer and grabbed one, after I did, my beloved brother walked in the room and shoved me in a closet, locked it and recited the scariest phrase a child could hear “Candy Man! Candy Man! Candy Man!” If FML was a phrase back then, it would be most fitting here.
My fourth childhood memory, I don’t want to share but damn it, I will. My cousins and I were obsessed with the backstreet boys, and we thought we were like them. So, we put together a band. We had a name, then another name, we wrote music, recorded music and choreographed dance routines. We actually have a little book filled with our lyrics and in that book, there is a remix, and yes…it does involve me rapping. Screw you all.
My final memory is similar to the fourth except this one is a little extreme. My cousins and I are in my room, music blasted, with instruments, basically what we did was dance. We were so out there, then my door opened and my brother was standing in the doorway, laughing hysterically. Another time this happened, we were in my room again, doing the same thing (why didn’t we learn?) but this time, we were dancing and singing to arabic music (Amr Diab, you ruined my life). My Aunt, who was visiting from Lebanon opened the door and saw us …performing on stage (which was a bed) to an audience (a row of teddy bears). To this day, when I talk to her, she asks “So, do you still dance and perform with (insert cousins names, who I will not devulge)?” Oh God, this is so embarrassing, I will probably delete this whole post later.
Until next time! Write away.
