Do you remember your first memory? Is it a recollection full of love and comfort? Or trauma and strife? I have heard that our first memories are usually quasi-cataclysmic events, but maybe that is just an old wives tale – because you know how married women like to make things up.
My earliest memory is of me walking to nursery school with my dad, and out of nowhere, a pigeon shat on my head. I can still feel the weight of his hot moist feces slowly absorbing into my hair. I wanted to go home to wash it out, but my dad had things to do and was like “ummm yeah I know that this sucks, but pretty sure you are still going to school kid.”
My dad brought me into the bathroom, wet a paper towel, and tried and extract the bird droppings from the strands of my ponytail – but instead ended up smooshing the white and green substance further into my follicles. I was so ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to think that I was the type of person who got shit on. Yet sadly I knew that my dad’s strategy was just streaking the pigeon’s anal deposit through my bangs, and not actually removing the residue. My humiliation ran so deep, and I wept at the idea of knowing that I was indeed exactly that kind of person who went to nursery school with crap highlights.
The Munch is now about the same age as I was for that fateful pigeon pooping morning, and sometimes I wonder if she has already solidified her first memory? I know that up until now Munch will have had events that have influenced her personality, and subtle energetic body, but I am not sure if she is going to be able to recall any of this to her therapist. But soon, she will be able to remember all sorts of things – and that is a terrifying reality!
Dear universe, if my child has already experienced the event which will one day become her first memory, can it PLEASE be some peaceful moment?? One where we were cuddling and I was at the height of my maturity and obviously being my best self?
Or will it be a moment like this?
We were in the car and she was watching her iPad and I was talking to my friend Grace on the phone. Now to give you a little context, I was in a really shitty mood. You know, the usual hating yourself kind of vibe. But I was also on edge because The Munch had been acting kind of like a jerk-face for the past few days – a lot of talking back, crossing arms, not listening, and an overall rude vibe. I was annoyed at her. Even though as a parent you always want to be compassionate to your child, and recognize that they are only 3 and lots of 3 year olds are assholes… but still. It can be hard to be around.
As I was trying to have a conversation with Grace, The Munch informs me that she is thirsty. Okay, that is totally reasonable. I don’t blame her for that. Yet the problem was that I didn’t have anything to drink in the car, and we were on a country road with nowhere to stop.
Toni: Munch, I am sorry I don’t have anything to drink. We will be back home in about ten minutes and you can have something then okay? Sorry, Grace, continue…
Grace: So where was I… oh right… so then…..
Munch: But Mamma I am thirsty!
Toni: I understand that you are thirsty, and I wish I had brought something – but I didn’t. We don’t have much further to go, and soon you will get a drink. Okay Grace, keep going.
Grace: Okay… so then what happened was…
Munch: BUT MAMMA I AM REALLY THISTY AND I NEED SOMETHING TO DRINK NOW!!!
Yeah I get that being thirsty is an inconvienence. But this child has never been dehydrated in her life. Never been denied of any substance. She has had a good life filled with liquids at her demand. We only had 8 more miles to go, and there was nothing I could do. Sometimes the lack of perspective a toddler can exhibit is maddening. There are kids all over the world who have no access to clean water, and mine was bitching at me not getting her juice fast enough while watching a hand held entertainment device. Now what I said next, I am not proud of, but it is what I said;
Toni: Listen dude, unless you want me to spit in your mouth, there is nothing I can do for you.
Munch: Ew. Gross, Mamma.
Yeah… so please Munch…. why don’t you have a different first memory than that.
(Here are The Munch and I walking the same path to reenact that pigeon ca-ca on the head morning…. Is it wrong that I am hoping that it is not me who gets shat on!?)
