The story: Lesson from the playground

One of my earliest memory from my childhood is a walk in the park with paternal grandfather, we both aimed the playground. Picture a small three old blonde girl, with curly hair, blue eyes and an amazing yellow dress, my grandmother's gift (she is one of the best seamstresses I know!). Walking very proud, happy to show off my dress and constantly driving my grandfather crazy with never ending questions which stated most of the time with WHY! So here we were walking, I see the playground from the distance, start running, enjoying the view and expecting to see my friends and tell them of my new dress and the lovely white sandals. I stop, at the rim of the sandbox and suddenly I realize that I cannot play as I usually would, I could ruin the dress and the sandals. I ignored my friends, walked back towards my grandad and told him very resolute that today we will only walk. The lesson? Always dress to the occasion, my mom told me years after that it was after talking with my grandad that she realized that I will be a girlie girl ;) guess I am, but still don't like pink! Happy Friday!

Motto

"A story is not like a road to follow … it's more like a house. You go inside and stay there for a while, wandering back and forth and settling where you like and discovering how the room and corridors relate to each other, how the world outside is altered by being viewed from these windows. And you, the visitor, the reader, are altered as well by being in this enclosed space, whether it is ample and easy or full of crooked turns, or sparsely or opulently furnished. You can go back again and again, and the house, the story, always contains more than you saw the last time. It also has a sturdy sense of itself of being built out of its own necessity, not just to shelter or beguile you."
by Alice Munro

Unknown says:

4:05 PM

If only my daughters could learn this one, Tomboys both, and with the blonde hair, blue eyes.

Claudia Moser says:

4:12 PM

@Fireman - each has her own development, you will see changes will happen with time!

Gawgus things... says:

6:03 PM

What a lovely story! My memories of a playground are of my little sister running in front of my swing and cutting her chin open. First time I'd ever been responsible for her as well I think!

6:45 PM

@Emma - first of all thank you so much for your email. Secondly as children we learn fast how do deal with responsibilities, when facing situations as described by you!

BB says:

1:35 AM

What a great memory Claudia. I just love it. Grandpa's are so special.

Green Tea and Cupcakes says:

4:38 AM

I was so the complete opposite to you growing up, what a gorgeous memory.

Desiree says:

6:15 AM

I loved this flashback from your early childhood! I really could picture the whole thing.

12:33 PM

@Barb - my grandpa was simply amazing, I miss him every day!
@Luan - well with time I did change :) just a bit!
@Desiree - glad you could ;)

Jo says:

4:21 AM

I love this. Grandpas who take time to play with their granddaughters just make me smile.

7:17 AM

@Jo - I was lucky to have him in my life!

Anonymous says:

4:33 AM

I can see your consternation and I'll bet your grandfather was amused. Hey, whats wrong with pink?

8:51 PM

Great lesson found at the playground. This was awesome!

Kathy
http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com/

9:18 PM

@Gene Pool Diva - my grandfather was a gentleman, I be he laughed within :) pink? Not my favorite colour! :)
@Kathy - thank you!

k~ says:

12:36 AM

I always had a pair of shorts under my dress, and would throw my shoes off at the slightest possibility of fun that might get me in trouble if they were on. I loved dresses, but I was still very much a tomboyish girl :-)

Fun memory Claudia.

danneromero says:

5:03 AM

cute story. i could picture you in the yellow dress and white sandals....

8:32 AM

@November - with time I also learned to be prepared for everything, but that took some practising :)
@Danneromero - it was fun!

Jenn says:

12:08 PM

I liked your playground post--you are right--you have to dress for the occasion. :D Cheers, Jenn

Mojo Writin says:

12:00 AM

Wow, such sense in one so young! I've never cared about clothes (as many a despairing friend of mine will attest), but I remember not having your nous at a similar age. Dressed in the snowiest of white dresses, I insisted on pushing my buggy through the park. I tripped, caught my finger in the buggy as it tried to collapse flat and bled copiously over said white dress... which never came clean... and I've still got the scar on my finger to remind me that white and small children are a no-no *grin*

10:03 AM

@Gil - you are funny my dear! Well yes, I have a lot of common sense, I guess I was a tiny grown up then already :)