Bits of childhood...

Lee asked, "Most vivid childhood memory, good or bad?"

Several moments came to mind right away.
All of them seem to be before my four siblings were born, so
we're talking about 1951 to 1955. Yeah, yeah...holy shit.

The first two are visually foggy. More sound and feel than photo.

First... I remember being in our living room. We had company, but
I have no idea who it was. I remember my dad laughing at me.
That much I can see... his face. And hear him laughing.
For some reason I was mortified by this and tried to leave the room.
He was sitting in a chair and reached for me as I tried to walk past him.
I can feel his arm wrap around my waist and pull me to him.
Still laughing. I can, to this day, feel the heat of my embarrassment.
It ends there.

Second... I feel myself sitting in my dad's lap and seeing the colors of
the Sunday comics. I think he was reading to me.

Third... I was NOT allowed to leave the confines of our fenced yard
without parental permission or being escorted by one of them.
However, across the street the neighbor boy had a swimming pool
set up in their yard. I don't remember actually walking there, but I
remember sitting on one corner of his pool with my bare feet in the
water.
Then, I remember seeing my dad walking across the street with a
yardstick in his hand. He must have just come home from work and
found me missing or saw me as he drove up the street.
Next, he is carrying me under his arm and probably smacking my butt
with the yardstick, although I don't remember that specifically.

Fourth... I am sitting at the dining room table.
My chin barely clears the top. I am listening to a record album playing
the story of "Sleeping Beauty". Mom and Dad are in the living room.
Suddenly, Mom throws the newspaper at Dad and runs to their
bedroom in tears. Dad follows her, but he is smiling.
He tries to open the bedroom door, but she has pushed the chest of
drawers in front of it to keep him out. I don't know how I know that.
I remember being scared and afraid to move. I think I cried.

Fifth... Dad raised Collies for a short time.
We had a beautiful female named Penny who Dad had had bred
to produce a couple of litters of pups.
Penny was sweet and gentle and was my protector.
Better than Lassie.
Dad didn't believe in spending the money to get her vaccinated.
She came down with distemper. I remember being in the backseat
of our Chevy, on my knees, looking out the back window.
What I was seeing was the brick building where we left her to be
put to sleep. A tree-lined country road. I was crying.

WWFS? (What Would Freud Say?)