July 13, 2008

This one time at band camp...

We were discussing the stories of our lives today. Those events that stand out in your memory, for whatever reason. They're not all happy ones but somehow they define your history. Fortunately none of mine start out with, "This one time at band camp..."

The closest I can get to that is dating a member of the marching band in high school. Yes, even then I was a geek. No...let me think, I never dated anyone that played sports. Very few of my best memories, unlike most people, involve high school.

I remember breaking my arm in the third grade...in four places. My arm sported a definite U shape between the wrist and elbow. I don't remember it hurting much. What I remember is the look on the face of every adult when they saw it.

I remember playing around with my son at a Target one day. We were pushing and bumping into each other, just goofing off. As we walked to the exit we separated, going out side by side doors. His opened automatically...mine didn't. He laughed all the way to the car.

I promise, not all of my memories are so painful.

Nor do I plan on sharing them all...I barely know you.

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