Wednesday, January 28, 2009


When Pumpkin Delight stopped over for martinis last week, she asked me about my favourite childhood memory. I didn't have a particularly fabulous childhood for several reasons, and not a single good memory came to mind.

Grandma J in her heroic optimism reminded a very excellent childhood memory I wrote about when I was back on My Big Fat American Journey or The Adventures of THAT Shirt. (Remember that? I am still not done showing you all of the slides either!)

So big hugs to Grandma J for reminding me of summer days, bike rides, candy store grab bags, creepy viaduct tunnels.

Now in the midst of this wholesome feeling I need to make a childhood confession from when I was eleven.

In the middle of the night, I stole money out of my mother's purse.

Once you get over the shock horror of it all, after about a two weeks of thinking of all the candy it could buy, I used the money one Friday night to order pizza so my mom didn't have to cook when she came home from work.

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