Childhood Memories

I can still hear Days of Our Lives echoing through the locked screen door on hot summer afternoons.
“Can I come in.”
I would yell through the screen over the sound of the Electrolux and Days of our lives.
“No!!! Go play. And stop pushing on that screen!”
So I turn around and stumble through the yard with black checkered squares on my nose from pushing on the screen with my face; looking at the tree, the car, then the street.
My feet feel hard in the brown dirt and the chain on my bicycle is laying half way in the dirt.
An idea! “I need tools.” I scheme!
“Mom, can I get some tools. My chain is off.”
She hollers over One Life To Live and the drier.
“But I got nothing to do and my bike is broke.”
I plead as my face becomes darker from pushing against the screen door.
“Go play in traffic!
She yells over the fan and the blender. As I turn around at the sound of my friend Jackie coming out the door of his house.
I forget about the tv and the tools. Off to make mud pies in the dirt and dare each other to eat them.
“Jimmy, get in here!
My mom yells over the train in the distance.
“I’m playing!
I yell back from the curb where the water runs downhill in a greasy asphalt rainbow.
“Get your ass in here, it’s lunch time.”
She demands.
“I’m not hungry, I don’t want to come in.” I plead!
“You better get in here if you know what’s good for you.” Mom threatens.
So I say “see ya later” to jack and stumble inside to lunch As The World Turns!


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