11/9/00: My Lost Plum
When I was in kindergarten, mom used to pack me a lunch that always contained the same basic components: sandwich, fruit, two cookies, and a juice box. I used to save the empty juice-boxes because they were useful when you were practicing breathing. (This made sense to me when I was 5 -- I would blow the air in the box, then draw it out. I thought it made my lungs stronger.) I wanted to make a big collection of them but they used to disappear from my room at night.
In any case, my favorite fruit was plums. I liked all the summer fruits, but plums were perfect -- I really loved them, almost as much as candy or ice cream. One day, mom gave me a plum, and I was really looking forward to it, but by the time lunch came I wasn't feeling well at all. I couldn't eat any of my lunch, and the lunch monitor lady said I should go to the nurse. I don't remember what was wrong with me, but I remember clearly how I sadly dropped my brown bag, plum and all, into the garbage. Also, I remember crying later that night. I think I was sick, which would explain why I was so upset, but I remember crying about the plum. I wanted it back. Mom said she could get me another plum, but that wasn't the point. The plum was wasted and gone.
This was SEVENTEEN years ago. I am still haunted by this. I don't even really like plums too much anymore. I think I'm too afraid that if I buy one, I might not get around to eating it and it will go to waste. I don't know what to make of it.
More musings that involve my childhood. I promise that none of them are particularly precious.