Obscure Memories: Memora Obscura (That's made up Latin)

My brother commented on the fact that I remember obscure things. To prove him right I'm going to offer up more obscure memories. I used to ask my mom and dad for stories from their childhood all the time. I loved it. I loved imaging them as little dopplegangers of their adult self conducting life in the 50s and 60s. I'm going to record my memories for my children's later referral:

My first friend, Michelle Nissler, and I once planned to carve flutes out of sticks to give to her father for Christmas.

My brother was a huge KISS fan. He had a little copper square that he had banged the word KISS into and wore it around his neck on a string.

I used to feed our family cat, Buffy. She was technically my brother's cat. I remember thinking what a good citizen I was for feeding his cat for him.

Once I sent away for Picture Pages and forgot to put a stamp on my envelope. It got sent back to me.

One time when Nate was really mad at Dad, he threw a Fudgesicle at him. It hit Dad's chest sideways and left a Fudgesicle skid mark in his chest hair. This really impressed me. I was even more impressed that Dad just chuckled at his foolish son instead of soundly beating him.

I once brought a roly poly into a restaurant with me. I didn't want it to die in the heat of the car. And then I lost it in the cracks of the booth.

I used to pretend that it was "snowing" in the kitchen by using my mom's flour.

Mom taught us how to make her coffee so that we could get the pot brewing and bring her a cup on Saturday mornings when we were home from school.

That's all for now as my husband is reading over my shoulder. Always stifles my creativity.