Some time while I was in elementary school, Mom and Dad bought us a fußball table (I refuse to spell it the way Americans do because it's just stupid!). It was heavy, sturdy, and lots of fun. When we got it, it was dirty and had soda cans lodged inside. And since it didn't come with the little balls, we used golf balls instead. It was in the basement of our four-story, German townhouse. We used to go nuts playing that thing. I'm sure it was quite loud, too. Anytime I had friends over, we would end up playing fußball. And someday, I'll have one of my own.
Eventually, it came time to sell it. I remember listening while Dad talked to a potential buyer about it on our back porch. I was still quite young and silly, but I wanted to witness this adult, business deal. But when Dad told the guy we wanted $40 for it, I blurted out, "But we only paid fifteen for it!"
I have very fond memories of Dad reading to us. I'm not talking about little kid books, but real ones that anyone would enjoy. We could read, but it was so much fun when Dad read. I remember stories about Sammy Bluejay and the other forest animals who liked to sneak onto the farmer's land. But my favorite stories were Asterix and Obelix. We had several English ones and a few in French. These are the ones Dad used to read to us. We would sit on the couch and listen while Dad pointed at each frame and translated for us. He would often laugh at the jokes before actually telling us what they were. I still love those comics and I have always loved to read. I wonder why.
I think the fact that Dad and Mom spoke French greatly impressed me as well. So now I can read comics to my kids in foreign languages as well.
I've always liked to draw and create things, no matter what the medium. And I've always gotten high praise for my work. I haven't done much for myself, but I really put my heart and soul into every art project at school.
One day in sixth or seventh grade, we made pig piñatas in art class. We blew up balloons, covered them in newspaper and papermache, added feet, snouts, and tails, and then covered them again with colorful tissue paper. We all had the exact same design and materials, but they didn't all come out the same. I remember thinking how excited I was to take mine home and show Mom. She was my biggest fan.
Well, they had to dry overnight so I went back to school the next day pumped to get my pig and take it home. But when I got to class, the teacher passed out everyone's pigs except for mine! Then he said he had to talk to me after class about my pig. I sat there the whole time wondering what I had done wrong.
Well, when class finally ended, I walked up to the teacher's desk and was handed some one-dollar bills and a bunch of change (less than $5). My teacher informed me that someone came in and saw our pigs and wanted to buy mine. Only mine! So he sold it to him. I was shocked. Why would someone buy my pig? And why would my teacher sell something that was mine and not his? I really wanted to keep it and show it to Mom, but it was too late. So I had to convince myself that the money was better. I don't think that worked because I am obviously still bent out of shape about it.