Christina didn't have the best balance as a child

Cassie: Hahahahah, I remember drawing on "non-drawable" things when I was young too. It was just so much more fun to draw on the speakers than on construction paper.

Alexandra: Come back to us!

Carlyn: Oh my gosh, car phones! I often forget about their existence and then am reminded every few years or so. Those were sure short-lived.

I think the strongest memory I have from my childhood is when I nearly cracked my head open. Cheery, I know. I was a big Winnie the Pooh fan when I was little (still am) and I'm was imitating Owl I'm pretty sure (I know I was pretending to be an owl at any rate). I was about two or three at the time. Well, while pretending to be an owl I was kneeling on the arm of the sofa, by the fireplace. What I remember of the experience is saying "Daddy, look!" as my dad was walking by with the laundry- and then falling backwards off the couch and hitting my head on the edge of the brick fireplace. My parents then of course rushed me very quickly to the hospital, ruining the spaghetti that they had been making for dinner. I remember my head being wrapped in a blanket (for the blood, if you wanted to know- and sorry if you didn't) and lying in my mom's lap as my dad drove us there. I don't remember anything after that, but I know I did end up getting stitches. I don't think my head actually cracked open, I'm pretty sure it was just the skin, I should ask my mom about that. Well, 20ish years later and I still have a scar on the back of my head underneath all my hair where no hair grows. So that, girls, is what happens when you pretend to be an owl. Lesson learned.

Christina's family is not so story-based

Cassie: I love both your family stories! The story of how your grandparents met is so just... adorable. And the holy water story is hilarious. They make me want to hear more family stories. :)

Alexandra: I totally understand not having much in the way of family stories, I point which I'll soon touch on...

Carlyn: Your story was funny and sweet! I also identify with it right now as I've been doing a lot of penny pinching (actually more like centime pinching) here in France as of late.

I alluded to the fact that my family doesn't have many stories, a hunch that I had when Cassie first announced this topic and which I now know after I struggled this week to think of stories to write about. We're pretty good on family history, I know where my grandparents came from, what they did, etc. But little family anecdotes? Not so much. There are a few little things I can think of, however, and I'll share those now.

-My mom used to play the cello when she was in high school and she likes to tell the little story of how, when her sisters and she were little (there are four of them total), they would get together, dress up like The Beatles, and pretend to put on a concert using their violins and cellos (they all played) as guitars. Pretty adorable, right? (Perhaps also a precursor to her daughter dressing up and pretending to be a student at Hogwarts... what?)

-My mom's mom (aka maternal grandmother, to use Cassie's wording!) raised four daughters at home, but also worked as a reporter for, I believe, The Hartford Courant. That may not be the paper, but it was one of the local Connecticut newspapers. She would go around town with my mom and aunts in tow, collecting stories, then write them up at home on a typewriter in between cooking and taking care of the kids (it was the 50s, so that housewife role was still in full force), and then hurry over to a bus stop where the driver would take her stories into town and deliver them by the deadline. My aunt has a newspaper clipping from when a story was written about her, showing her (with one of my aunts or my mom, I don't remember who) handing off an envelope full of stories to the bus driver. I never knew my maternal grandmother, so seeing that picture and hearing the story was really nice and helped me get more of a picture of her.

I have tried and failed to come up with a story from my dad's side of the family. There are little things like the fact that he was a very difficult child, something my grandma (his mom) would tell me a lot, but I never got any specific examples, just the general thought that he was difficult. The one story I can think of isn't the most happy. My dad is deaf in one ear and the story is of how he found out. They were doing those usual hearing tests at school and when he got home from school that day, he found his mom crying at the kitchen table because they'd called to tell her that he couldn't hear in one of his ears. Yupp, a real upper that story is. (He gets by just fine hearing out of his one ear, if you're wondering!)

I can not think of any other stories, so there we go for this week.