The later half of my childhood could be better off unsounded but the beginning of my life was where true joy shone. Of course, there were the reasons of having a proper family, actually feeling and being a child without decisions or emotions to think of. One funny tale that I often remember was during my later years as a toddler.
I never wanted to leave home. On the first day of kindergarten, I wept and loud enough to be the center of the attention. Throughout my early years in school, tears would be shed and wiped away as rain would come and go. Some days were happy and bright, others were gloomy and wet.
During an open day at school, I was 4 and pulling at my parents towards my table in the class. We had our activity books lined up neatly on our respective tables and on the front page was plain circles, triangles, squares and stars formed into a funny looking clown where we were allowed to colour in. Of course, the class from a distance was filled neatly with table with white rectangle books with horrendous colouring on a rather horrendous clown. You couldn't blame 4 year olds for being sloppy, now can you?
I was so proud of my book. I was convinced that mine was the prettiest of the rest. What kid wouldn't think so? It is nice to recall the scene of this stick 4 year old in transparent plastic spectacles showing off her artwork to her then still-happy-and-together parents with glee.
The other memory was one that I was rather not fond of at that time. There was boy. Hmm. There always is a boy in the story huh? However, he was one boy I did not fancy, at all. It was sort of the other way around and I was too young to understand other children's feelings and swept him away julst like a fly on a paper.
At 5, I was halfway into colouring my lovely picture when something called out the waterworks. There I was, sobbing uncontrollably and next thing you know, this boy was at my side, comforting me with the funny smile of his and while colouring my picture, he kept saying, "See. It looks prettier now! Look." All I could think off was, 'get your paws of my art'.
5 and a half and me and my family were walking towards this boy's house because apparently my father knew his father when suddenly, I tripped and I ended up with a painful wound on my little knee. Next scene, was where I was in the boy's house where he looked so worried and ran around getting a band-aid for my knee and everyone kept awing at that while, I was still the heartless little girl wishing he would just leave her alone.
At 6, this was something quite funny and unforgettable. I was busily chatting with a boy who sat across me and the teacher laughed and called out, "Why do you two keep talking so much? Better off getting married, you two." when the the boy who, unfortunately got to sit next to me, blurted out loud, "I want to marry Elisabeth when I want to grow up!"
