Weird Stories From Childhood: The Book
Growing up in my family was… Not the best experience. Some of the things that happened were a bit odd, to say the least. This is one of those stories.
Ever since I can remember I have been a huge fan of books. I. Love. Books. Yet, as a child, I didn’t have a lot. I use to ask for them, but my mother always bought me dolls (I HATED dolls). You see, my mother didn’t like books, but she liked dolls. So she insisted that I liked and wanted dolls, and that I didn’t like or want books. She said I’d understand and appreciate it when I was older. Well, she was right that I would understand, just not in the way she meant. What I understand is that she is a self centered person, who tried to live vicariously though me. Not surprisingly, I don’t appreciate it.
It was the last day of first grade, and my teacher had a celebration for the kids, she even invited our parents. There was a table set up with a bunch of goodies on it, and our teacher invited us up one at a time to pick something out. As I sat in my seat I noticed a book, and there was only one. I HAD to have it! Finally it was my turn, and I went straight for the book. It was a Little Golden Book called The Poky Little Puppy. A book, about a dog! I happily went back to my seat, only for my parents to ruin my good mood. My mother started to insist I had that book, and told me to ask the teacher if I could pick out something else. I said I didn’t want to, and told her that I didn’t have the book. Both of my parents ganged up on me, and kept insisting I had it. I kept telling them they were wrong. I told them I had a book about a kitten, not a puppy, and they probably confused it because it had (what I considered) a similar cover and title. Judge for yourself…
My parents dismissed everything I said, ignored my pleas, and took the book from me. I got upset and cried, begging them to let me keep the book. I could hear the other parents murmuring, not understanding why my parents didn’t just let me keep the book. They couldn’t believe my parents were making such a big deal, and making me cry. One of them even pointed out that they weren’t paying for it, so who cares if I did have the book at home. She had a point, even if I did have it, it wasn’t costing my parents anything, and I had zero interest in the other items on the table. So there was no loss to anyone. I’m sure my parents heard what the other parents were saying, but they didn’t care. They had to be right, and show they were in charge. So they marched up to my teacher, who looked confused, as she saw me crying. My teacher allowed them exchange the book. My parents, who clearly didn’t care about anything I liked or wanted, picked out a tiny, cheap doll, that I hated. Shock. Surprise. When I told them I hated it and didn’t want it they said, “Well, then you should have exchanged the book yourself, so you could pick out what you wanted.” But I had already picked out what I wanted! I sat there sad and miserable for the rest of the day. Watching as everyone else had fun, and was happy, wishing I could join in and feel the same way.
When we finally went home I pulled out all my Little Golden Books, I only had about 6, and I spread them out on the floor. I looked up at my parents and yelled, “SEE! I don’t have it! I told you I didn’t have it!”. Then I threw the stupid doll across the room, and sat there crying. I overheard my father say to my mother, “Maybe I can run to the store and see if they have one…”. My mother, as cold hearted as always, said, “No. She’s just a kid, and it’s only a book. She won’t even remember this.”…. Well, it seems she was wrong. I very much do remember it.
Recently, on one of my thrifting trips to Goodwill, I found a plush of The Poky Little Puppy, for only 99 cents (NWT). When I went to the register, holding it in the crook of my arm, I noticed the cashier staring at it. The old lady in front of me commented about it, and we chatted a bit. When I got to the register the cashier excitedly said, “The Poky Little Puppy!”, and talked about her happy memories of the book. She asked the other cashier if she knew what it was, she said she didn’t. She then turned to me, and jokingly said (not knowing my story), “What a sad childhood, having parents who never read you ‘The Poky Little Puppy’!”… Yep. It certainly was.
