My dreams are filled with memories of friends and the slow, slow walk
through childhood. What a treasure, a repository of
sensory images.
My childhood and adolescence was knitted of friends, all neighborhood girls;
buddies from ages of hiking and biking and sitting up high in our apple tree
eating green apples 'till we were sick; of sitting in a huge circle in
Diane's garage with her older brother and his friends on rainy
summer days playing spit, a card game that used as many cards from as many
incomplete decks as we could gather. "No! We don't want to play strip
poker!" After all, we were 'safety patrol girls' in sixth grade wearing the
official orange chest belt and badge of authority and responsibility. We
mothered the little tykes on their way to and from school and refused to
acknowledge the interest of the older boys. Not while we were on duty.

We bought our first Elvis Presley 45 record (Hound Dog on one side,
Heartbreak Hotel on the other. Or was it Don't Be Cruel?) on the same day that we bought our first bra,
32 AA, the very smallest model but that strap across the back was high
status for going into 7th grade where, it was a known fact, that the boys
snapped it and labeled any girl that didn't wear one an "FB". We girls
spent some quality time figuring out just what "FB" meant until we managed
to separate one of the boys from the pack who confessed to us...flat
boards! "Hmphh!" Until we grew up a little bit more we experimented with
fillers, cotton balls gave too lumpy a profile but loosely rolled up nylon
stockings gave a soft and natural look and garnered just the right response
from those older, rather icky boys.

I like this one too!!!

(correlates: DishonorAmongThieves, ParallelProcessingParadox, FoodFixations, ...)