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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/977635
Rated: 13+ · Book · Other · #1966420
Theses are my thoughts and ramblings as I forge my way through this thing they call life.
#977635 added March 9, 2020 at 9:11pm
Restrictions: None
My First Big Excitement
30 Day Blogging Challenge

PROMPT March 9th
What is your first memory of being really excited?


Not A memory, but the FIRST memory. Having passed the half century mark, trying to remember the first of anything is going to be a challenge. Negative firsts are easier to remember, positive firsts are harder to capture.

I do remember the first time I got to stay on my own while my mother went out to a movie with her friend. I was eight or nine, I think. I was living with my mother in an apartment building on Armstrong street - the only apartment building on Armstrong street. Probably the only apartment building in my home town.

I was so excited about being on my own for the whole evening. My mother trusted me to stay home alone. I got so over-excited I made myself sick. After I threw up, I put the lock on the door and went to sleep on the couch in the living room.

But there are two things that make this story stick in my mind. One - the lock was a chain lock. One you cannot undo unless you take it off from the inside. Two - the more important aspect of this tale, is that when I sleep - I sleep. I am out for the count. I hear nothing.

So when my mother and her friend came home from the movie. They could not get into the apartment. Mom could unlock the door, but she could not open the door more than a crack. I did not hear her call out to me to open the door. I did not hear her banging on the door. I did not hear the phone ringing beside my head when they walked downstairs to the pizza parlour to call me to wake me. up.

Eventually, I did wake up and sleepy - eyed I did let them in. When I told me mother I had gotten sick from being overly excited she decided not to go out and leave me on my own for a good long while. I was over 12 before she did it again. But by then there were no chain locks on the door of our house.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/977635