Lacking a Favourite Childhood memory

[~christina~]

The thread that stated your favourite science experiment memory as a child or etc, made me think about a question that I came across before...

Generally speaking,
What is your favourite childhood memory?

I cannot answer this question, and it makes me feel like I missed out on something in my childhood. It's strange because, I know that most people can recall a favourite memory of theirs, of when they were growing up. Nothing stands out to me as, particularly spectacular or worthy of being mentioned.

So, does everyone have a favourite childhood memory, or are some people like me and lack one?

 

[misgfool]

In ES my class teacher passed almost everyone with a supportive attitude, but no matter how well I did anything, it was never good enough and I often had to remake it. This is my favourite memory.

 

[Astronuc]

I have so many childhood memories that I can't really point to a particular one and say that it is my favorite. I have good memories as well as bad/unpleasant memories.

At the first home where I lived, the lady next door (Hilda) had goats, and I remember the fun of playing with them and feeding them. In the small town, there was a water found made of different coloured stones, and apparently there was colored lighting (which I didn't understand at the time, since that was up through age 2) which varied. To me, the fountain magically changed colour, and I always found it a pleaurable experience to see the fountain at night.

 

[Kurdt]

I have very little memory of anything so I don't have a favourite.

 

[OAQfirst]

So, does everyone have a favourite childhood memory, or are some people like me and lack one?

Many people will focus on one in particular. But many also do not. Even I don't feel like I can point to any specific memory to call a favorite. That doesn't mean we missed out on anything.

I also think that some people who answer those questions don't necessarily have a favorite memory, but answer the question anyway with one that quickly comes to mind as a memorable and positive experience.

 

[Jimmy Snyder]

I have posted this story before, so some people may have read it before.
Although I do not remember the weeks leading up to my fourth birthday, I imagine that my parents must have built it up as is usually done for small children. I would no longer be three, I would be four. (Before you can be four, you must be three, and before be five, be four - Walt Kelly). What I do remember is that I didn't want to miss out on this important milestone. When the day came, my mother baked a pineapple upside down cake. There were two annular slices of canned pinnaple on a rectangular cake. My mother was quite proud of it and showed it to me. This is the cake for your birthday. The pinapples were caramelized, but to a four year old they just looked burnt and I didn't want to eat it. I asked my mother if I don't eat the cake, can I still be four. My mother was always a liberal in such matters and she said I didn't have to eat the cake, I would still be four. She was wrong. I am still that three year old boy even now. But that is not my favorite memory. When I woke up that day and went into the living room, there was a big red tricycle. You couldn't ignore it, and I didn't try. Whose trike is that I asked. I figured it was for my older brother (he was much too old for it, but I wasn't sure). My parents said it was for me, for my birthday. I know all kids think they are the center of the universe, but I never felt it so keenly as then. Thanks mom and dad, it's just what I wanted.

 

[Currawong]

I cannot answer this question, and it makes me feel like I missed out on something in my childhood. It's strange because, I know that most people can recall a favourite memory of theirs, of when they were growing up. Nothing stands out to me as, particularly spectacular or worthy of being mentioned.

I think the concept of a favourite memory is a bit of a flawed one. How can one memory be the best out of all others? If one does have one favourite memory, it's most likely a value placed on it afterwards and not realized at the time. I would think that if you couldn't find a favourite memory perhaps you haven't attributed random favouritism to any of your memories. Maybe if you just looked for a memory where you felt warm or loved or interested in something you might find what others call a 'favourite' memory.

I don't have a favourite memory either and I hate having to try to find one because it always depends on the day whether my memory brings up this or that memory and it seems rather arbitrary to say one is favourite IYKWIM. And I am the one who started that other science memory thread but then if you narrow down memories to 'camping memories' or 'toilet memories' or 'holiday memories' or 'school memories' or whatever it's much easier to find a good one.

 

[Currawong]

In ES my class teacher passed almost everyone with a supportive attitude, but no matter how well I did anything, it was never good enough and I often had to remake it. This is my favourite memory.

Is that really your favourite memory, misgfool?

 

[misgfool]

Is that really your favourite memory, misgfool?

That is the thing that immediately came to mind. Not surprisingly I did get the top grades, because she forced me to work harder. It was quite rough for a kid, but I was lucky, survived and in retrospect I'm grateful. I think with time I managed to repair the psychological damage.

 

[Ivan Seeking]

Eating snow cones and swimming in the pool on a hot summner's day.

We had fifteen, and later, seventeen kids on our block who, for about ten years, grew up together as a group. We all lived in the first six houses on the block, on both sides of the street. I have many great memories of us all playing together - everything from army, to football, to doctor's office . In the latter part of those years, we even had weekly volleyball games in the vacant lot, next door, that involved most of the kids and the parents of those kids. It was quite a unique phenomenon that evolved spontaneously. Later we had people coming from other neighborhoods to join in. I even remember one couple who just happened to be driving by, stopped to see what was going on, and joined the group.

 

[BobG]

Good memories:

Sculpting sand into boats in the sandbox with my friend when, unexpectedly, my Mom brought out a couple little flags she'd made on the spur of the spur of the moment just because she happened to see what we were building out of the kitchen window.

Oatmeal cookies out of tupperware containers at Christmas time.

Ketchup sandwiches.

Pancakes with faces in them - with the faces cooked right in. Years later, I did this for my kids, too; then for my grandson. A couple drops of batter for the eyes, a kind of curved line for the mouth, wait a few seconds, then pour the rest of the batter on. You never know for sure what the face is going to look like until you flip the pancake over.

Watching the old lady downstairs play solitaire. The upstairs portion of this family's farm house was converted into a rental where we lived, but you could still sneak down a back stairway through my bedroom closet. I thought sneaking down there at night was pretty cool and the old lady used to let me sit with her and watch her play that pyramid solitaire game.

Terrifying memories:

At that same house, I got one of those Easter chicks that had been died blue. I showed that chick to everyone so many times they got sick of it. I finally ran out of people that would put up with me and I started showing it to the other animals. The cat really liked that.

There's nothing quite like the experience of having a cat eat a live baby chick right out of your hand.

Another that was both good and terrifying:

At our next house, me and the neighbor kids built an underground fort in the field behind us. We dug a big hole, covered it with plywood, and then covered the plywood with dirt and wheatstalks. A small outcropping of the hole provided our door. That was great!

At least until the fall when, one day, we heard something really strange outside getting closer and closer. When we realized what it was, I don't who was more shocked - us at staring face to face with an oncoming combine or the combine driver wondering why all these kids were pouring out of a little hole in the ground.

We're lucky he didn't drive right into the hole.

 

[Jimmy Snyder]

Pancakes with faces in them - with the faces cooked right in. Years later, I did this for my kids, too; then for my grandson. A couple drops of batter for the eyes, a kind of curved line for the mouth, wait a few seconds, then pour the rest of the batter on. You never know for sure what the face is going to look like until you flip the pancake over.

I used to write the kid's initials. I painted onto the almost finished pancake, flipped it over and waited a couple of seconds.

 

[Cyrus]

Nope, none that I can think of. The only thing I strangely remember is driving down to dulles international airport with my father when I was around 7 and watching the airplanes fly through the window. I just remember the huge curved ceillings.

Oh yeah, and sitting in my dads lap while driving the car around the block when I was 5.

Haha, now that I'm typing this I can think of quite a few. I remember when I was 5 or 6 I was riding my bike and my friend (We grew up together) had a plastic sword. He threw that sword at my bike and WHAM it went RIGHT through the spoke of my front wheel, jammed itself against the brakes, seized my front wheel, and launched me off the front into the cement. I balled my eyes out.

Another time this kid was making fun of me. I was around 7 and he was bigger than me, so from across the basketball court area, I threw a rock. WHAM, one in a million straight on his noggin. He balled his eyes out and never made fun of me again. HAHAHHAHA. My mom ran down and helped the poor kid as he was crying.

We used to live in an appartment next to the pool. When we went to the pool I had inflatable floats that went around my arms and were bright orange. I used to paddle my way with my legs toward the 6' end and the life guards would always blow their whistle at me and tell me to go back to the shallow end. I was 5 and didn't know any better.

Man, we were hell raisers.

 

[Jimmy Snyder]

watching the airplanes fly through the window.

Sounds too thrilling for me.

 

[Cyrus]

They were big windows.