It was the one and only time my Dad slapped me across the face.
I was six-years0old.
My cousin, Kendrick, had come obver. He, myself, and neighbor kids were playing together. All of a sudden, shit turned into them, I guess, making fun of my weight or whatever.
Obiously, being a Karen about everything. I was like, “Fine, ya’ll can’t have these ice cream sandwiches taht we have!” Or something. There was some sort of treat in the freezer. I don’t know. Kendrick ran into the kitchen behind me. I grabbed myself pme of those treats. I slammed the freezer door behind me.
RANDOMISH SIDENOTE: Like, I haven’t thought about this thing since just now. When I’m trying to remember where this hippo character that kept breaking things just popped into my mind. Right now. I think./ This hippo lady, character, thing. Came from a cartoon called Fixit Fox or some shit. It was also a book bnack then. I dunno. Couldn’t find it. Whatever. Point is… I “Didn’t know my strength,” and…
Welps… As hard as my six-year-old arms could slam that freezer door, I caused the shelf… uh… container…? Restrainer…? Thing? I dunno… On the door itself, is a shelf, right? But then there’s a little “wall” type of thing that keep stuffs from falling down. It’s not like a little rail or anything. It’s like a little wall. I dunno. Either way. I slammed that freezer door. And one of those wall tyhings broke. Fell off. Whoops.
One, two, skip a few,
My dad comes home. My sister. “The adult,” of the house at the time of the freezer treat/cousin Kendrick/neighborhood kids incidenr happens. She’s like, “Yeah dad, Ryan broke the freezer.”
Slap. You know. The one that happened before.
“Now, I’ll show you where the teen-ah-gers live.”
For the life of my three-year0ld dumb ass, I couldn’t pronounce teenager.
The family just bought a… you know… camcorder. A fucking… sigh… basically… a BIG ASS device that would allow you to record videos. Like the pros! lol… You know… a basic function of the modern phone! HELL YEAH!
Anyways… aside from the “Just Don’t Go Girl,” moment… that/’s all of the embarassing moments that don’t involve my penis (not at all in the CP sort of Way, I promise) in those home videos. Things.
“Jesus said, ‘Love God!'” I said, then pointed at my sister filming me, “Like you Lynn.” I continued. Something like that, Anyways.
Another, random bit from home videos. Whatever.
Again… I’d asume that’s what the voice of “God” sounds like. Or feels like. But who knows.
“God” tells my dad to quit his job.
NOT AT ALL RANDOM SIDENOTE: Like… Forreals… Even as a basic, nonbeliever. I sat in a service few, current years, in a church that my Parents adore. With a pastor that they adore. And I’ve heard that Pastor preach, “God will never tell you to quit your job.” Neither of them would ever, ever admit this to be a fact. But uh… yeah dude. It happened. In real life. But uh…
Somewheres around here. Dad quits his job. Because God slapped him to.
Family loses the house. Immediately. Obviously.
Minus a couple of a few family member get togethers (like, immediate family and a couple others, I think? Cause. Dude. My family is huge. And back in those days, when there was a get-together, we’d get-together hard… ior something i dunno wtf I’m saying lol). Anyways, atr wahtever sort of family prayer circles or whatever were had. My dumb ass would say shit like, “God told me we’re goint to keep our house!”
Obviously. Since. You know. “God” told my Dad that he’d have a son named Ryan David, they ate that shit up. So.
Fireworks were going off the parade was happening.
Obviously, we’d gone and done the rides and stuffs a this point. Like. I know I was on the Dumbo ride. I did the Teacups.
Dude. I love(d) thos early 90’s Disney movies as a kid. THe Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin (alothoug, that one happened after the Disneyland trip, pretty sure anyways… merhaps all of these did, I don’t know I was three-years-old)
All I knew, for sure. Is that I wanted to watch the parade. And the fireworks. And all that. But I was just like threeish years old. I didnt want to go into the Haunted Mansion. Like. No thanks please. Uh…
But there we we. My brother and I. Walking through the crowd.
I didn’t understand why my brother didn’t want to stop and watch the parade and stuffs.
All I know, for certain, is that my sister and dad approached us as my brother and I walked down the sidewalk through the crowd.
Words happened. And we approached my mom, sitting on a bench. In Disneyland. In my mind’s eye, she and the entire area around her is illuminated in orange colors. As fzar away from my, remaining memory’s vantage point could see. I could tell that she had been crying. She didn’t smoke at the time. But for whatever reason, I remember her having a cigarette in her hand. Or at least she was in a smoker’s posture, if you know what I mean.
That’s basiczallt my CHILDHOOD memory of Disneyland (and it’s not going to get better from her)
Somewthing about Universal studios too during this same vactatuion thing. After all of the happeneings tjat transpired there, I fell asleep at a restaurant that was there, (Tony Roma’s?) And like. I woke up with Fred Flintsone right next to me. You nkow…
Forreals… that’s a “doll” thing. I took a picture of it. Made a .png of it. And pasted it there. Like. If you care, I’ll prove it to you that that “doll” there is still, currently, in my possession if you want. Shut up.
My oldest brother was married. Created the BEST family picture ever. With like… all… I dunno… 40+ of us? I dunno.
Also, on the same steps where that picture was taken was a great picture of like four-year-old me sitting on the steps with my hand under my chin… whereever that picture is… I want it dude.
My second-oldest brother is married.
All’s I remember is I danced with his wife, (whose still his wife, congrats all-round, right?!), awkwardly at six-years-0old. And then I went downstairs and played Street Fighter II a lot,. Oh…. and Boots Scoot and Boogie played too? I dunno. It was 1994. Shut up.
Second-oldest brother has a child.
My mom and dad decided to move us, my sister included, to Colorado. I’m going on seven-years-old. We’re leaving my first nephew behenind., My oldest brother and his wife have another nephew on the way. We’re leaving all of those HUGE famuly gatherings behind.