Our childhood experience shapes our adult world. As a children’s writer, I find myself drawing on what I remember feeling or people I remember meeting or memories of certain quirky things. With 6 kids in the family, we had more than our share of interesting material for future writing.
Milk. That’s a theme that’s sparked more than one conversation in our house. There was the ubiquitous milk mustache. Much of my childhood, we looked like 6 white-lipped Groucho Marxs. Didn’t we have napkins?
Then there was the milk-out-the nose incident. There was always someone cracking a joke or doing something stupid. The trick was to time it so the punchline came as the most people were gulping down there required 8 ounces of the white stuff. Although, admittedly, root beer stings a lot more coming out.
The most memorable of all was the milk shampoo. Kids are crabby at 6 o’clock by nature. Sit the crabbiest, whiniest one next to the parent with the worst day at work and you’ve got yourself a treasured family memory. Simmering like a fine sauce, we watched as tensions grew. The heat got turned up and before you knew it, a glass of milk got poured on said child’s head. Now, that’s a beautiful thing.
What childhood memories have sparked your writing? Leave me a comment. I love to hear stories.
The Glass Half Full 
Great post, Lois. I can remember all too well the times my sister and I laughed so hard milk came flying from our noses. Sore? Yes. Fun? Absolutely!
Thanks for bringing such great memories back to me 🙂 B x
Thanks, Belle. I showed this post to my folks and they have no memory of any of this. Probably a good thing.
Loved this post. I’m looking forward to the YouTube video version! That’s coming next, right? ;~)
A video would be lots of fun to make! Who should I cast as the victim of that shampoo……. Thanks for stopping by.
When I was very young, my grandfather would accompany me to the stores. He was blind from an industrial accident and I was his guide. We had a secret stop at the tavern so he could have a beer. He gave me pennies for the peanut machine—a bribe to keep me quiet about the tavern stop. Eventually, grandmother found out and that was the end of the peanuts.
Arlene, What a great story. I’m guessing the tavern stop doesn’t make for such good children’s book material, does it? It was good to see you yesterday. I’m looking forward to seeing your new and improved stories.