The Lifespan of a Fly

Happy Pirates Day!… Wait, I mean Mothers’ Day
May 9, 2010, 12:01 PM
Filed under: Generalizations

Everyone has a mom and sometimes people have more than one. Myself, I only have the one mother. So I could do a post about how great my mom is, but if you’ve ever met her you already know that. I could tell you abow how she influenced me, but if you know me at all, you already know that too. So instead of some sappy story about my mom, I’m going to tell the story of one of my favorite childhood memories.

I grew up in Northern Ontario and during the summer my brother and I attended a day camp at the beach a few blocks away. I was about eleven and my brother would have been about nine the summer we were allowed to ride our bikes to camp alone. This was a big deal, our independence was beginning to bloom and our adulthood was just around the corner. We also had a misbehaved springer spaniel named Sassy, who spent her free time chewing the siding off the house and other random household items. The morning in question we had discovered that Sassy had made a snack out of the strap on my bike helmet. Independence or not, there was NO way my mom was about to let me ride to camp without a bike helmet. Rushed, she grabbed the first good alternative that she could think of: my hockey helmet.

So off to camp I have to ride with not just a hockey helmet, but one with a full face mask. I’m not even sure why I didn’t just take the damned thing off as soon as I was out of sight of the house. I think it’s that whole “Santa Clause” mentality, they know when you’ve been bad or good. Here I am, already pissed off that I have to wear a hockey helmet with a face mask on my bike ride when I pull up to the building my camp was located in. I lock up my bike and carefully stash the helmet only to head inside to where all the children are pointing at me shouting “Micheline! Micheline!”, the name of our camp’s handicapped girl. For the rest of the summer, even my best friend called me that. I wonder if she still remembers that day?

And that is how my mother taught me strength or character. Thanks Mom! I’ve finally learned to live without shame.


1 Comment so far
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I think I might have to disown you now for telling that story!! Hugs you brat!

Comment by Mom

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