Write About Your Earliest Childhood Memory

I hated putting them on. I remember wiggling around and curling up my toes, my back in a full arch and fighting. I must have been about 2 years old. I had blond hair and brown eyes and was a real handfull. I am really not sure to this day how my mother managed me.

Each winter brought the same ritual, the first I remember of it was on Vine Street where we lived next to my Grandmother and Aunts, all in a row. Bedtime rituals were the same each night. We would walk to Maw maw and Paw paws house and say goodnight and get hugs and then it was bath time. I always had a doll in bath with me and insisted on Mr. Bubbles in the tub. I always had my mother there with me, singing to me through the bath and washing my fine strands of hair with Johnson's Baby Shampoo. She rinsed it with a red plastic cup while holding a washcloth over my eyes because I was scared of getting water in them.

It was bliss while getting hugged and dried off and having my hair combed....then it was the moment of torture. Little pinky panties on and hair braided I would watch her go to the top drawer to collect the enemy. The chase was on and the writhing little greased pig would go into action. At all costs I was going to delay the imprisonment of....FEETY PAJYMAS.

I know it was just to keep me warm at night, but I can tell you one thing. If I am ever lucky enough to be a mom, there will be NO feety pj's at my house. Socks maybe, but you gotta make a stand in life somewhere.

xoox,
Bug