This kid was the third girl in her family.
This kid was named after her mother.
This kid was the youngest kid on the block.
This kid never made it into the Secret Club behind the gates of the neighbor's backyard because she wasn't tall enough - - ever- -. They measured me. . . every - single - summer. . . and the marker grew with me. That's okay. I eventually grew to be the tallest kid on the block anyway. The Secret Club eventually set the backyard on fire while conducting a secret experiment with their Secret Science Kit that our neighbor boy sent away for in the back of Boy's Life magazine. I was the only kid on the block who wasn't grounded for the entire summer. It was a lonely summer if I recall. Apparently the Secret Club had a larger following than I imagined. They took a vote that next summer and told me they were thinking of letting me in. They would let me know in September. I told them that I had a fondness for my eyebrows and hair and would pass on their consideration.
This kid was a human remote control before TV clickers were invented. I learned to watch television out of the corner of my eye. Fortunately for me there were only a few channels available when I was a kid. Cable would have killed me or given me a bad case of carpal tunnel syndrome. I was the fastest remote in the West. I could switch from American Bandstand to Soul Train and back to Chiller Thriller in no time flat. My tiny little hands were but a flash on the fabric covered control panel.
This kid was an excellent game player. I was always the very last kid hanging on the end when we played Crack the Whip. To this day, anytime someone goes to shake or grab my hand I have flashbacks. It was me against the asphalt. I was Home Plate when we played 3 Flies Up . It taught me to duck and cover like no other. I was the first kid lined up against the garage wall when we played Dodgeball. I have little feeling left in my lower extremities to this day but I can proudly say, "I am no quitter!"
This kid was the neighborhood runner. I could pull a string of kids around the block with a rope tied to my waist while they sat on skateboards with metal wheels, bicycles with flat tires, or roller skates with one wheel missing. I learned to navigate the cracks in the sidewalk. With my excellent Crack the Whip skills, I could turn a corner at warp speed, manage to keep everyone in line and still keep my balance. I had a washboard stomach before I was 8. I would like it back please.
This kid learned how to play Monopoly before she could read, Tripoley before she could count, and Parcheesi before she realized how boring it was.
This kid is what she is. Someone with extreme amounts of patience. Someone who is a great observer. Someone who isn't afraid to try. Someone who never quits or gives up easily. Someone who likes herself just the way she is and what she was.
How about you?