August 6, 2014 2 Comments
In this week’s writing challenge, mine your memory and write a memoir.
I wasn’t allowed pets. The hedgehog, complete with fleas, was a no-go. No cats – allergies. No dogs – walkies. But to make sure I had the proper amount of childhood trauma, my mother washed my beloved panda then hung him out to dry.
By his ears.
Which detached themselves from his head and stayed on the line, while the rest of Pandy (I was only 6, gimme a break!) fell into the mud. He was stuffed with straw and never, ever recovered.
After that, I never trusted my toys to not suddenly disappear. Or my mother, come to that.