Remember that?

-I remember laundry lockers, and how we weren't supposed to ever just get one thing out of them. We were supposed to empty our lockers the moment we saw it was full. I also remember never doing that.

-I remember the locked cupboard, and how the naughty boy down the street taught Jackson to pick it. We opened it drooling, only to find basic kitchen ingredients such as brown sugar, bullion cubes, and chocolate chips. THIS is what you've been hiding? We were imagining all assortments of ready-made gingerbread houses (with extra candy dumped inside as "furniture"), ice cream sundaes, and possibly the entire selection from the Shell Station). It was then that I took to eating large handfuls of straight, undiluted brown sugar. I still can to this day.

-I remember telling Jackson to "Smell my kibbies!" as a lowly attempt at defense. That brings up two side notes. First, that we used to say things like "kibbies" for toes, "winkies" for raisened fingers in the bathtub, "bubby" for blankies, "etc. Second, that my relationship with Jackson has changed very little. I still have no defense (except an occasional pinch, lick, or squeeze of his pinky), and I am still very much harassed, often unprovoked. South Carolina trip, anyone?

-I remember Dad working in the garage on Saturdays listening to a Boom box (they don't make those anymore. It was an electronic device that Dad used because it seemed to go undetected by the "Olsen-technology-curse". Even the technology ghosts wouldn't haunt over something so ghetto). Sometimes he would come in and make waffles after. We would put butter in practically every square. Oi.

- I remember garlic bread. I remember how for most of our lives (notice I said most. she's been much better these last few years) we had one kind of spaghetti dinner. The kind with burnt garlic bread. BLACK. Mom has this thing with the oven, see. I don't think she fully knew how to use it for a long time. The timer button must not have worked, because garlic bread and chocolate chip cookies always seemed to come out charred. Also the "off button" was really hard to find. Just ask Dad on a Sunday evening after dinner.

-I remember making tunnels in the snow when the church would plow all of the parkinglot into our back corner. We stayed out there for hours on end, only to be called back by hot chocolate and warm soup.

-I remember Grandma Bee's extensive efforts to make Christmas magical at her house too. She had a village set out that took half the front room. And her tree was covered in white frost with all sorts of decorations and treats about. And let's not forget the outside displays.

-I remember Olsen movie classics. "What About Bob", "To Kill a Mockingbird", "The Shawshank Redemption", "Harvey", "Sgt. Bilko", "Bim the Donkey" (although most of us have never seen it, we know the title by heart), "Muppet Christmas Carol", "Arsenic and Old Lace", "Big", etc.

-I remember making button people with mom's button collection. We'd also turn over raspberry crates and put plastic animal figurines inside to make a zoo. On some Sundays we'd play "Town", and there would be a movie theater, a restaurant, an insurance office (but we never knew what that was for), and sometimes a toy shop. I remember playing "Dead-man" on the trampoline. Sometimes when Wade would visit we would play a game called "Crab" on the tramp, where he would sit in the middle and just grab for us and we'd squeal with delight. He always won. Shocker.

-I remember our many vacations and how Dad would wake up so early and turn the tv on. Then he'd force us out the door, groggy eyed, only to find out that it was 4:26 am and that he "wants to get a good start on the day." I'm certain I'm not over exaggerating. :)
Also I remember Dad would ALWAYS drive, rarely getting a ticket. He'd drive for 15 hours straight, ever so often looking back through the rear-view-mirror to see if we were still awake. If we weren't (in a coma from the boring book on tape), he'd reach his hand back for us to grab it.
When Dad got tired he'd start slapping himself silly and then we'd all get concerned. He is a marathon driver. He wins the award for making us feel safe all the time.

-I remember craft time at Family Camp, and how I never won.

-I remember swimming at Dad's office! How we'd change in the bathrooms, swim till we wrinkled, and then swim some more. New tricks off the rock-hard diving board (mostly cannonball in nature), and the same five ways to ride down the slide. Man, just talking about it makes me miss it! It was always kept so hot- like a hot tub. Mmmm...

-I remember parties. Lots and lots of parties. Apparently Mom likes to host. I remember cleaning for parties, cleaning up after parties, and an occasional emergency clean-of-the-blue-bathroom DURING parties. I remember not liking parties.

-I remember the house before it was remodeled. I remember three rooms downstairs, the old kitchen, the old deck (that was scary underneath), the blue bathroom, and the old antique-decorated living room. I also remember lots of wallpaper.

-I remember our sweet dog Emily and the good companion she was to all of us. The way she'd play with her food, the way she barked like a maniac when the doorbell rang, and the way she wagged her tail.

-I remember our first computer. The Macintosh.

-I remember when Mandy got the nanny job and ran up and down the stairs screaming. I remember when Kristen came back from her travels with little braids in her hair. I remember how I used to steal candy bars from her and occasionally the high quality nails she'd get at 6-star with Natalie. I remember Clay coming home from the National Jamboree to no bedroom because of the flood nobody told him about. I remember Jackson's mullet in high school. I remember putting Styrofoam in his pillow. I remember how he put a black widow spider on my pillow. (*For the record: Styrofoam is not the equivalent of a black widow spider.) I remember Wade giving us holograms and having all the kids at school want one of my sticker-roll in the 3rd grade. I remember Holly always saying "thank-you" first after dinner and then how we'd all hurry and say it too, as if Mom wouldn't notice we didn't think of it ourselves. And I VIVIDLY remember the day she got her teeth knocked out at family camp when Danny threw the bat at her face by accident.

I know I remember my childhood better than most (thanks to avid journal keeping and a good imagination, as Clay would claim), and I have very positive feelings about it all. We came from a great home. The best. I'm grateful to call all you family.