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My "Fucher"

Over a year ago, my mom and dad decided to clean clutter out of their own house and, in an attempt to streamline, they went ahead and gave me boxes of things they had saved from my childhood -- if I'm honest, things I didn't really expect I see until they died or something gruesomespice like that.

Whatever, it's fine. I'm not complaining about it, even though it isn't like I really have the room in my house for boxes of cards I was given when I was five, or worksheets and stories I wrote in the second grade.

I hadn't even really dug into those boxes until last night.

I found one little "story" I wrote (and we'll use the word story lightly here) called MY FUCHER. (It took me a minute to realize I'd meant MY FUTURE.) Hilar.

My Fucher

I want to mary a boy who will stay home all day and clean the house. I would not stay home. I would work as a singer or hope to. I want to have a babey girl. I would name her Lynn or Trecey or Nciol. I would take good care of her.

I think it's awesome that I felt this way at the age of six.

Yes, I may have less yearning in the babey department these days, but I love knowing I was career driven even as a child.

Now I'm sort of drawn to these boxes from my past. I want to see what else six-year-old Amber had to say. She was a really cool kid in spite of some serious spelling issues.

Comments

MJenks said…
My parents threw all my shit out. Toys, papers, everything.

Like so many other things with my mother, my childhood ended in a dumpster.
That is so incredibly awesome! I love looking through old papers and such. I wrote a story when I was about that age little called "Little Red Riding Mouse." It was about a mouse and a hawk and a visit to grandmother that went perfectly fine, since the hawk befriended the mouse instead of threatening to eat her. ...Yeah, not really gripping.
Elliott said…
I watched my father throw my childhood teddy bear into a dumpster, after I was already traumatized by barfing all over the interior of Dad's '74 Custom Cruiser.

Other than that, though, I have much of my childhood in boxes. I was made to take all possessions with me when I moved out. My sister, however, still has boxes and a PIANO there, despite moving out 13 years ago.

But I'm not bitter. Much.
Shandal said…
Oh that's too funny you wanted your husband to be a homemaker. lol I have no idea if my Mom kept my stuff or not. I'd assume not. My grandma might have some though.
Anonymous said…
Hyster. Have you offered the hubster the option of staying home?
Jm Diaz said…
That's awesome. Sp, how do you like your fucher?
Ashley Stone said…
haha, that's awesome! Don't we all want a man who stays home and cleans?! I couldn't spell worth a lick when I was little either. Very cute.
mjenks - I'm sad that your things end up in the dumpster.

sarah - sounds like a cute little story!

elliott - i had a piano at my parents' house too... until the streamlining began and my mother allowed my father to cut it up and turn it into a stylish table. in fairness, it was HER childhood piano, but i always assumed i would end up getting it!

shandal - i hope your grandma has some of it! it would be fun to look through it with her. :)

trav - i only wish i made enough moolah for hubs to stay home. he would have a honey-do-list the size of my...

j.m. you motherfucher. :)

ashley - thanks! i wish i could afford to hire that all-male thong maid service. lol.
ha.. I would agree with 6 year old Amber. I want a husband who cleans. I would love to stay at home and do what I want and he could just clean up around me.. :)
You definitely need to frame that. What a fabulous little feminist you were! It reminds me of a magnet that I keep telling myself I'm going to purchase of a cute little girl saying, "Mommy, when I grow up I want to help smash the white racist, homophobic, patriarchal, bullshit paradigm too!"

Check it out!
P.S. I want a house-husband, too.
Tia said…
who DOESN'T want to marry a boy who will stay home and clean the house all day?? =)
Jerry C said…
Saw a sad thing when my mother-in-law died. My wife and her brother walked out of her house, just before it was to be sold, with one (1) cardboard box that contained all she had saved of her 86 years. (She was German, you see... and so were her kids. Me: Moma mia, I'ma Italiano. So brother said to sister (my wife)as they walked out of an imaculatly clean garage, wasn't that great of mom to make sure there was no mess or clutter for us to clean out? Well, no clutter, no mess, no fuss, no memories. My kids will throw out my shit... and have a wonderful time going through it... as I did for my folks...and still do of mine, from time to time. I'm not a believer in clean shelves, clean mind... and richer for it.

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