I am seven.
I’m about to have a really traumatic school year.
But it’s summer and I have no idea.
I remember that swimming suit.
I’m wearing some kind of shirt over the swimming suit.
That’s not my family’s car.
But I think I remember whose car it is.
We were a neighborhood of women and children whose husbands and fathers were deployed overseas.
Debby is twelve.
I think she looks like a baby Mick Jagger.
She’s probably saying, “Hey, you, get off of my bench.”
But that’s okay.
I’ll pay her back later.
If it wasn’t this picnic by a lake, it was another picnic when:
I woke up in the middle of the night…
Sat up…
And threw up watermelon all over her.
I don’t remember it.
But she swears it’s true.
the traumatic school year has me wondering
Touched on here.
I think your smile in the first photo shows a little girl more than willing and able to throw up on her big sister.
No doubt.
Love that you threw up on her and yes she does look like a young Mick Jagger there. 🙂 Sorry though for your traumatic school year.
Thank you! (My poor sister.)