Memories of home

A recent trip to our old stompin' grounds led to reflections and confessions by the kids.

We passed our first real home, the one that we moved into when I was pregnant with Andrew. Three children were born while we lived in that home which was awfully convenient since the hospital was just right up the block. None of the children remembered much from this home.

They do, however, have many memories from our next home where we lived until Andrew was going into 3rd grade and Isaac was just 3 years old.

Jesse confessed to hiding his carrots under the chair mats and watching the dog eat them later. Too bad for him the chair mats didn't make the move to this home.

He also remembered his friend, Dean. The two had a great time playing at our house one afternoon but we were more than slightly embarrassed to find that Dean, who had been there just a second ago, suddenly went missing when his mom showed up. A frantic search revealed that Dean had chosen to take refuge under Mariana's bed because he didn't want to go home.

Mariana remembered the Great Hair Cutting Incident of Aught -Three. Most children try their hand at hair cutting, taking just a sample from the front or side. Mariana cut chunks from both and hid the evidence under her pillow. When questioned she tried to tell me that my mom had cut her hair. Nah. I knew how my mom cuts hair, with that ugly pink tape across my forehead and since I don't know if they even sell that pink stuff anymore, I doubted that my mom was doing any hair cutting. Anyway, I found the evidence a day later. The hairdresser, who assured me on the phone that she could fix anything, took one look at Mariana's chop job and declared it un-fixable.

She also remembered creating a hole in the bottom of Jesse's birthday pinata so she could steal some gum. She also hid this under her pillow (this was in her less-creative days). She now realizes the stupidity of chewing gum at bedtime which need to be thrown away after just a chew or two.

And she remembers me throwing up in the kitchen sink when I was pregnant with Isaac. Oh well, we all have those un-glamorous moments.

After these two gave memory after memory, and confession after confession, Andrew piped up from the back, "For the record, notice that none of these stories are about me doing anything bad. I was the perfect child."

Yeah, right.