I Remember

I remember that one song that played from the garbage truck.

I remember the clay stop motion animation of The Tempest.

I remember a spider on a wet rock I thought looked like the island in The Tempest animation.

I remember crying at the salon not wanting to get my haircut.

I remember running cross-country in New Zealand and wiping my snot on my sleeves and shirt.

I remember having a hot dog.

I remember eating an unknown berry during my elementary school year.

I remember the smell of an ointment I used for bug bites.

I remember the color of my Barbie doll’s hair.

I remember the first ring my dad bought me.

I remember sitting on the cold stone floor while it was raining outside.

I remember falling asleep with chocolate rocks inside my cheeks.

I remember going hiking with my family and a girl.

I remember being made fun of for buying a glass that’s shaped like a big diamond.

I remember the music mum played on the ceiling speakers.

I remember our first dog.

I remember our first dog’s death.

I remember the stickers my grandma put on the back of her hand.

I remember the movie I was with my mum and a scene about a fish being electrocuted.

I remember biking at midnight.

I remember the somber feeling of reading before bed.

I remember fighting with my sister about the toilet seat cover.

I remember stealing pearls.

I remember going to my first baseball game and rooting for the country that played against mine.

I remember swimming with my sister and our friend.

I remember the jasmine milk tea my dad and I make after coming back from the gym.

I remember the Sony Ericsson t610 phone my dad owned.

I remember playing mini-golf on that Sony Ericsson t610 phone.

I remember buying cheap makeup.

I remember the songs I sang on the swing on my elementary school campus.

I remember dreaming about maggots living under my thumbnail.

I remember the strawberry bubble gum balls.

I remember listening to Ann’s Jam for the first time.