GoT Poems and Stories

Prompt 2: My Piggy-back Rides and Childhood Dreams ~ Story

As a child, my father was the one who loved giving me piggy-back rides, and play with my brother and me. He was the best father ever! Mom was more of a listener, helped us with our school work, dried our tears when we felt sad, got hurt, or just felt bored and lost.

We lived on a hobby farm of pigs, chickens, ducks, and geese. I even had a pet duck named Sassy. She was black, with speckles of white, and so special to me that I carried her around, even sat on my lap, so I could tell her stories. She cocked her head at me, as if she understood every word I was saying.

My brother, Dean, teased me about Sassy, even my cousin, Steven, who was the same age I was. He was shorter than I, so I could beat him up whenever he got on my nerves. “I’ll laugh if Sassy poops on you.” Dead and Steven would gain up on me. So, whenever my cousin, Judy would come over, she would make things even, siding with me.

Sassy never pooped on me, because she loved me, or I was just lucky. We were friends, and she came to me whenever I called. She was so smart! So, when Dad told me it was time to butcher her, I was devastated.

“You cannot not kill Sassy, he’s my friend. Why would you do this horrible thing?” I ran off crying, so upset with my Dad, and my brother for laughing about it. They were both on my not liked at the moment list! It took me a long time to get over this, and I couldn’t eat my beloved Sassy. My stomach did flipflops whenever I saw my parents and Dead chew down on the meat, threatening to throw up in front of them. Sucks! I never could, and even this made me feel as if I’m letting Sassy down. Let me say right now, I never made friends with another duck, or anything I know my father might butcher.

When my cousin, Judy, would stay over during school vacation, Steven would come over at the same time. They were not brother and sister, so this made it even better, knowing Judy would be with me no matter what if I needed her.

We would go on hikes, through our neighbor’s pasture where his herd of cows would follow us, over to the other side where we would duck under the fence and reach our destination. This was our spot, there was a lake to go swimming, a great place to have a picnic lunch, which was under the weeping willow. There was also railroad tracks, where we would dare each other to stand as long as we can before the train comes barreling down on us, horn’s tooting its warning. We loved the danger!

Just like kids do, we swam naked, loving the feel of the water on our skin, free as a porpoise, having races on who’s the fastest. Being Dean was the oldest, he always won, but we tried our best. Seven years old is that age where we think we can do anything, and boy was my head big back then! I’d dream up the craziest things to do. We even built a cave in our cellar that Mom wasn’t too happy about. It was fun building it, but a chore taking out all the stuff that made it fun.

Whenever we would build thing outside on the lawn, our dog, Freckles, would run through it, and toppling all our inventions, thinking it was a game. We would scold him, his tail wagging, and in his mind, he thought he was being praised for his shenanigans.

Dad would always praise us for our inventions, or all the other stuff we would come up with. “That’s my girl, you’re using your head.” He’d do the same with Dean, so we both felt the praise, and loved his understanding. Now with Mom, it was a different story, she wouldn’t praise us for the messy lawn, because that is how she thought of it. She would praise us for keeping our rooms clean, no messy closets either. Everything should be hung up, and all the dirty clothes is thrown in the laundry basket.

Mom was a neat freak, sorry for the nickname, but she was! "All your dirty dishes, put them in the sink, make sure you rinse them off!"

Naturally this made it easier for her. I didn’t mind vacuuming the floors though, that was fun for me. I felt all grown up, and I would picture myself married with a handsome man, three children, Andrea, Cinderella, and Rapunzel. I was a dreamer, loved watching Disney, as you can tell, and was really a tom boy at heart, but I didn’t mind dressing up as a princess now and then.

Dean teased, “Oh, look at the sissy girl, thinking she’s a princess. Think again!”

I didn’t care, I thought I was beautiful princess, and that's what counted to me. Judy loved dressing up, too, maybe more than I did, which concerned me a little bit, but I talked her out of it most of the time. When she got into her girlie girl moments, I didn't like her much. So we had our disagreement, and boy, some of them were doozy's!

When Steven wasn't with Dean, we even talked him into being King. Of course, that wasn't a good idea, he would then boss us around. We decided no more of that! Dad even offered to be King, but we laughed until be were all were rolling on the ground with laughter, and plenty of tickles later, Mom brought out a picnic laugh which we all ate under the old elm tree in our front yard. Our house was close to the road, and people would toot as they passed by, and we'd wave. These were my most happy times.

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