I’ve been having a great time doing my daily lettering project over on Instagram, and I need to catch up archiving the weeks here!
Two weeks back I decided to start a theme for the week, and everything was going fine.
Until I got a prompt for the #MeetyourselfMarch lettering challenge I’m also doing. The prompt was a favorite memory from childhood. I started making a list of all the great stories I could remember from being a kid, and the list was WAY TOO LONG, but in a good way.
So I thought on Thursdays I would break from the theme of my week and do a piece of lettering pertaining to a story from my childhood. So this is the first one!
1,000 popsicle sticks.
What you have to know first is that this wasn’t exactly during my childhood, more like young adulthood. My older brother Davey had moved out of his room, and I had moved into it.
The walls? A bright orange.
The bed? I had two; my dad made us loft beds (like the top of a bunk bed but no posts, just screwed into the wall) but for some reason I also wanted one on the floor. I suppose I thought it was cool. So I had my bed on my floor and a sort of gaming loft.
The reason I can call it a gaming loft is because there was a huge old tv hooked up to my Playstation. To get to the loft, there was a wooden ladder that hooked into it, with steps at a pretty steep angle.
This is all pertinent backstory, I promise.
Under the gaming loft I had my computer desk with an old Microsoft Desktop on there. And my room was the place to be for my younger brother and sister.
I’d like to think it was because I was cool, but I was so CLEARLY not. I was 16 and still collecting Beanie Babies.
Yes, BEANIE BABIES.
Just let that sink in for a little bit.
I was a weirdo, but a lovable one. Most likely they came to hang out in my room for either the Playstation, the computer, or just because we liked being around each other. We got along well and still do.
Well, on this day, it was only my younger sister Debbie in the room with me. We are 19 months apart but were and still are very close. I remember she was in the gaming loft, probably playing the Tony Hawk Demo disk or Parappa the Rapper. (Playstation games are a story for ANOTHER TIME!)
I was doing something on the computer.
And there was also a box of 1,000 popsicle sticks on the floor in the middle of my room.
I have NO IDEA why, since I have been outspoken against the use of popsicle sticks in crafts for much of my childhood.
Could it be because my mom was a kindergarten teacher and had us test out things her kids would make with them?
Could it be I was being snobby because my dad is a woodworker and popsicle sticks are not the best wood out there?
I’d like to think it’s because I was so into making things and making quality things that I just couldn’t stand them. I vowed never to make a project entirely out of them, and was never impressed when little kids showed off things they made with them, so it’s a mystery as to why they were in my room.
I bet they were my Mom’s (remember, kindergarten teacher!) and I was using one or two for some puppet or school project thing.
Soon, Debbie was done whatever game she was playing and came down to ground level. The only thing was, she didn’t do it gracefully. Most likely she missed step.
Somehow she fell down the ladder
WITHOUT hurting herself,
sliding out of control
until one leg hit the ground
smack dab
on the top of
the box
of
1,000 popsicle sticks.
Now, if you’ve seen a box of 1,000 popsicle sticks, you know that the box is about as sturdy as a paper boat. It was just waiting for an opportunity to break, and under the weight of my sister’s foot, it did.
This is about when I looked up from the computer, to see popsicle sticks all over my floor, and my sister laughing hysterically.
The thing about Debbie is she has this contagious laugh that turns into a cackle and you have to laugh along.
It starts out really quiet but gets loud and fast,
and she was all the way in it.
We laughed for A LONG TIME, and then calmed down.
“Ok, so….are you going to pick those up?” I asked.
I mean, she was the one who made the mess.
“No,” she said, and I remember arguing with her over it for a while until she walked out.
Another thing you need to know?
Everyone in my family is stubborn.
So I didn’t pick up the popsicle sticks.
Debbie didn’t either.
They seriously stayed on the floor of my room for a long time.
I can’t remember cleaning them up; our Mom must have made us at some point.
But I do remember that we’d hang out in my room nearly every day,
and we’d be doing normal things until we’d see the popsicle sticks.
Some days we’d argue about who should pick them up,
but most times we would just laugh remembering the story,
so all in all, they were a good room accessory,
but of course NOT FIT for crafting.
