Writing Prompt #18 A Childhood Memory

Aren’t kids great? I have 3 kids and they are an endless source of joy and laughter for me. Do you have a treasured childhood memory?

tubaI have one brother, he’s younger by 17months. Grade 6 meant you started taking instrumental music in school. I was assigned the clarinet. My brother was assigned the tuba. The music teacher made him sit on two phone books just to reach the mouthpiece to play the thing.

One day, I dared my brother (using my superior big sister logic) that he couldn’t fit into his tuba case. We argued for a minute, but finally he agreed to climb in just to prove that he was too big for it. But I had to promise that I would not lock him in.  (You see where this is going, right?)

Long story short, I locked him in and eventually had to let him out. I flipped the last catch with a toe and was halfway to the street before he climbed out. He chased me around the entire block he was so mad. I came home when I saw my mom’s truck in the yard. I’d take being sent to my room any day over dealing with his angry tantrum (however justified). It was totally worth it 🙂

Your turn.

Today’s prompt is to take a childhood memory and write it. But here’s a twist – make us laugh. Comedy is hard to do well. Post your memory here or leave us a link to your website. We read every one.

4 comments on “Writing Prompt #18 A Childhood Memory

  1. I hope it’s OK if I share two brief stories, one from my youth and one from my kids’.

    Well, speaking of instruments…I used to play the clarinet, then later, the saxophone. One day, instead of taking home the alto saxophone as usual, I borrowed the tenor sax. It’s a big brute. I remember waiting for the bus the next morning in front of my house. Imagine teen girl plus giant instrument case that could easily be mistaken for a suitcase.

    Uh, huh. You guessed it. A young man, probably 20 something and on his way to work, stopped and asked if I needed a ride. And…that was the last time I borrowed that particular instrument.

    Today we’d be mortified if someone stopped to pick up a teenaged girl – or boy, for that matter. However, I choose now, as I did then, to believe he was just being a nice guy.

    Skip ahead a few decades…

    Nathanial was going through his punk phase. I figured as long as his attitude wasn’t affected, I didn’t mind the black clothes, chains, army boots, and yes, the Mohawk – which I gave him, by the way.

    I homeschooled my three. When I didn’t feel like business-as-usual, we often jumped in the car and headed for the Toronto Zoo. We got there. Parked. And were headed for the exhibits.

    Joshua, my middle child, doesn’t much care for the sun beating down on him. It was a bright day, so he took advantage of his hoodie – to Nathanial’s horror.

    “Don’t wear that. You’re embarrassing me.”

    Trying hard to be a good mom, I didn’t point out the fact that, to some, he looked like a hoodlum.

  2. Hey there, Girls With Pens.

    When I was in 7th grade, I got into Beginning Band and attempted to pick up the clarinet as well. It didn’t work out. Couldn’t get a sound out of it for a week. My genius band teacher suggested tuba, actually, and so I did it. And I became the tuba player. I was diminutive, like your brother (it sounds), but did not require phone books, though that’s the joke of choice whenever someone asks me about it.

    I took it upon myself to participate in this exercise, and I believe I have one worth the time to read.

    Check it out, along with a couple mentions of your fantastic blog, here:

    Enjoy, and thanks very much!

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