Childhood

I remember when I was a kid my mama, my brother, my baby sister, and I lived in a red bricked duplex. I forgot the official address of the place but I remember the building and the location around the building clearly. Inside the house there were three bed rooms, one kitchen, one living room and a basement. My mom had one room and kept my baby sister in a playpen or in her bed. My brother and men shared one room as well. We had bunk beds but I don’t remember who had the top bed and who had the bottom. My auntie had the final bedroom.

    On the outside of this red bricked building there was our front door on the first floor of our building. Leading up towards our front door were six or seven concrete steps my brother and I would light fireworks on for Independence Day. I even remember one year we had this small tank as a firework. It had a fuse at the tip of the cannon and when I lit it the tank fired red flares from the cannon. The back door to our building was on the second floor of the house. After exiting our back door there was a wooden patio like structure with steps that led to a large open field behind our building.

My dad would visit sometimes during the day and sometimes leave at night. He wasn’t always there in the but was at our house he usually brought something fun to do. One time he brought over this chinese dagger and a katana. He let both me and my brother hold them. The katana was a sword many japanese samurai would carry. At the young age I was I couldn’t lift the surprisingly heavy sword.

Another time my dad brought over his BB gun and taught us how to shoot it. My brother and I started to set up a beer bottle we found on a post to shoot. I shot the bottle from upon the balcony, expecting the bottle to shatter, but the bullet went straight threw the glass bottle. We even started shooting our large plastic toy soldiers with the gun. The first time we shot the toy the bullet bounced right off the plastic toy. The second time we decided to pour water on the toy and then shot it. The bullet went inside the toy and got stuck inside.

My most memorable moment with my dad was when he, my brother, my cousin, and I went to a park up the street from our house. Once there instead of sliding down slides, we began to see who could get up this huge pile of wood chips surrounded by mud  first.This huge pile was just a few yards away from the park. Needless to say we all came home that day covered in mud. My mama was pretty mad.

That day my mama got my brother and I all  cleaned up.She was always the responsible parent who fed us and do our laundry. I also remember some funny memories of my mama. The best one is when my mama saw a mouse on the floor of the kitchen. She quickly grabbed the broom, opened the back door, and swept the mouse down the balcony. She said the next day “ I felt bad because I saw the mouse holding onto the edge of the balcony with its little hands.” She then said “ I even saw his face and eyes before he fell and I heard a splat.”

In conclusion I hope it is clear to understand why I have such strong memories of this place. From having fun and dangerous times with my dad of being  taken care of by my mama when it was needed. I have had lots of fun and loving memories in that house. Some as simple as just playing with my little brother or baby sister. To tell of every  memory I have of this building would be to much of a task.  Thus I have just told of some of my most crazy and favorite memories at that time.