So, once upon a time, my mother and father and I all lived in a trailer. I had to have been about three, maybe four years old at this time. I can’t tell you much more than that. I simply do not remember.
My mom called me into the living room. She was laying on the couch, under a yellow blanket. I think I had a quick flash of how strange it was to see my mama sprawled out on the couch under covers, but I quickly batted that thought away because who was I to tell my mother what she could and couldn’t do. I believe my dad was in the chair beside the couch.
Mom told me she was going to show me a magic trick. I think she told me to close my eyes. When I opened them, she was holding a Weeble horse in her hand. She gave me that horse–and on the topic of that horse, I kept that thing, played with it, dragged it around by a rope, like a pet dog, and so many other things…for years and years afterward.
This story isn’t about that horse, but about the magic trick. I clutched my pony tightly in my hand, screwed up all my courage, and asked my mom to do the trick again. I was so desperate to get across to her and to my dad that I didn’t want another horse. They could keep the other horse. I just wanted to see the magic trick again because it was so cool.
I remember being very upset because 1 I thought my parents thought I was being greedy and demanding another horse and 2 I couldn’t get out clearly enough, at least not to convince them, that all I really wanted to see was the magic trick again. Make another horse, or whatever you wanted, appear out of thin air.
Now, I do clearly recall my mom laughing. Which may have contributed to why I felt they thought I was being greedy and wanting another horse. Now I can look back and realize they bought me the toy and Ma had had it hidden under the blanket to make it magically appear…and she was laughing because she couldn’t do the trick again right that moment no matter what or how hard she tried.
I also clearly remember going back to playing or whatever I had been doing, with my new horse in tow, feeling upset for being misunderstood and thought a bad child for wanting more than my fair share by the people I loved most in the world. I remember feeling guilty, for a long long time afterwards, because maybe they were right about me, even though all I desperately wanted to see the magic trick done again because magic is, after all, such an amazing thing.
That’s my memory from my childhood for this week.
I hope you enjoyed it.
If you would like to share a memory of your own, please do so in the comments below.
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