A tale from childhood

Tale From Childhood

The blazing sun and the freezing water balloons invigorate us and stimulate our appetites. One breaks against my sunburned skin and I howl with laughter at the same time as I hurl one at my best friend. We're soaked, all of us. This is the best birthday party I've ever had. I feel popular, surrounded by so many kids from school. Soon my father emerges from the house carrying a platter full of hotdogs and burgers, and the twelve of us kids squeal. In spite of being soaking wet, we run up to all 6' 4" of my dad and practically knock him and our lunches over. Luckily, his sense of humor is as reliable as his barbequing and the hotdogs survive. He places them gently on the grill, one at a time, and heads back to the house to grab some more food. On the way there, he reaches down, picks up a water balloon from the ground, and tosses it directly at Tom. After the blue bubble burst all over his bathing suit, Tom erupted in peals of laughter and returns the favor. With a giant water stain on his tee shirt, my dad opens the back door while he chuckles loudly. The water balloon fight continues in our back yard.

The grass glimmers from the sunlight reflected in all the water we've spilled. When we start to smell the charred burgers and grilling hotdogs, the game winds up. A few of us, including me, grab towels and dry off. A few others continue tossing the multicolored balloons, but with much less energy. Still, the sound of children's laughter continues to fill the summer air.

I head on inside to dry off and say hi to my mom, who is preparing some more edible treats for us kids. She is in the kitchen with my dad, who continues to go back and forth between the house and the barbeque to keep an eye on all the burgers. Gradually he starts to fill up the grill with buns to get them nice and toasty. Everyone seems full of joy. My mom is sipping iced tea and putting a huge bag of potato chips in bowls we can dig our hands in. She also whips up some homemade dip in the blender, which whirs loudly at top speed. The commotion around her, blender and hyperactive kids included, does not seem to bother her. She fields our questions and listens to our stories about the water balloon fight with genuine interest, even as she munches on some chips herself.

I leave my bathing suit on because I have a feeling that we will be playing more games after lunch. The smell of barbeque is overwhelming now and my stomach grumbles. Grabbing a seat at the table outside, I eagerly pour myself a glass of lemonade with a bunch of my friends. My dad starts to bring over plate after plate of goodies, asking who wants a burger and who wants a hot dog. Several of us say we want both. As the table fills up with the remainder of the party, my mom begins to bring out the chips and dip and takes a seat at the table too. The tablecloth is made out of plastic and when anything spills on it, it sits there in a glob instead of sinking in like it would with cloth.