Thursday, February 21, 2013

What I didn't like about my childhood

Childhood is usually viewed by all adults with rose-tinted glasses….we always reminisce fondly and tell kids stories about how wonderful our childhood was and how their childhood cannot hold a candle to ours. So, when Sra asked me to think about what I did not like about my childhood for the Fifty-2 weeks of 2013, I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be able to think of a single thing I disliked. The human mind is an amazing thing, though….it often suppresses memories that are less than pleasant and it is quite a challenge to let those memories surface.
After digging deep, though, I remembered that I hated PT in school. I was a scrawny kid, always picked third-last for group games like dodge ball and basket ball – third last only because there were two people who hated games more than me and were worse at it than I was. Come to think of it, what is fun about having a team of people standing in a circle, trying to throw a hard ball at your ankles to make you out? Needless to say, I hated hearing my classmates whisper…..hey, it’s easy to make J out…..let’s throw this ball at her first. The missed catches, the painful ankles, the hot sun, sweaty underarms, that bloody whistle slung around the PT teacher’s neck – there’s nothing I hated more than PT hour every day.
At some point during mine and my brother’s childhood, I also remember that someone told our mother that we were too thin and that she must feed us eggs. The said person also educated my mother on the best way to make us eat eggs  – break a raw egg into a cup, add a spoonful of sugar to it, whisk it all together and then make us drink it. We put up with this horrid, stinky ritual for a few months before our mother finally took pity and gave up.
Other than this, all the memories I have of childhood are pleasant – a time spent with not too many worries, lots of friends, wandering through the neighbourhood with no fear, making appam with mud, fighting, making up, music classes, playing on the roads, playing in our back yard, playing in neighbours’ back yards… see, when I was outside school I loved playing. It is only organized sports where it was necessary to prove that you were better than others that I hated.


lata raja said...

eyew! raw eggs....I am so with you. I was force fed eggs and remember throwing up on the school's dining table that no child wanted to sit next to me for months in the mess.....that aversion I carry to date and even if I smell eggwash I refuse to eat the bread!
I agree cent percent on the fact that our mind is such a thing that it can refuse to bring up unpleasant memories.

sra said...

We didn't have this raw egg tradition at all. But the very thought of it makes me gag. And many people I know have a raw egg story, invariably one of dislike.