My childhood memory Essay

I had just had my third birthday and loved to go to the park. My favourite thing was to whizzzz down the slide very fast.It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and I was off to the park with my mum, dad, sister and newborn brother. The park that we were visiting had a slide.

From my memory the slide seemed absolutely massive but then I was only three at the time and things do seem a lot bigger from that height.As soon as we arrived I ran towards the slide. I could hear my mum in the background calling after me. I, as usual I didn’t listen. I was always rushing off. I climbed the steps hurriedly, I couldn’t wait to get to the top. Soon I reached the final step and had a view over the whole park and playground. I couldn’t hold in the excitement any more as this was a big event in the life of a three year old.

We Will Write a Custom Essay Specifically
For You For Only $13.90/page!

order now

Without checking if the coast was clear, I pushed myself down the silver slide, my hair flying in the wind, my arms flapping.It was wonderful until I came to an abrupt halt. Smack! My face went into a wall of t-shirt I had gone straight into the back of a small boy. The boy got up and walked off. He was unfazed by what had happened and walked off. I however was making far more of a fuss.

My mum ran up to see what had happened. She hugged me but told me that I should have been more careful. Inside my own little head all I could think off was that my eye hurt and that we were walking away from the slide.

Even after all that trauma I still wanted another go but the incident ended the park trip and we went home. However the story didn’t end there.A couple of days after that, my right eye had gone purple and swollen. My mum thought that we should pop to the doctors to have it checked. A Pretty simple appointment or so she thought. The visit was a disaster from the very beginning. As soon as my dad mentioned that we should put my shoes on because we were going to the doctor’s, I ran into my room and hid in the wardrobe, I had hated the doctors. This was as you might think quite a good hiding place.

This may well have been true if I had put my legs inside the wardrobe and not left them dangling out with my head hidden behind the doors.Finally we left the house and walked the short walk to the doctors. As a compromise for going to the doctors I had brought with me my pad of paper and some brand new colouring pens. I sat contented colouring on the pad while we waited to go into see the doctor. After a short time “Eleanor Simms” was called. I sat up, I was slightly scared, but I was busy packing up the pens and paper.”Quickly” my dad called out to me,”Leave the pens here, there is no need to take them in.

” he said.I did this reluctantly and walked sulkily into the room where the doctor was waiting. For all of the 10 minutes that we were in there I could only think of the pens out there alone in the waiting room. As soon as we had finished I ran out to check that the pens were safe. To my horror, as I reached where we were sitting, a small girl of about the same age as me was drawing on my pad! With my pens!”Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” I screamed.

“Those are mine, not yours.” I shouted.With tears brimming and rolling down my cheeks, the anger that filled inside me was too much to bear.

Suddenly I lifted up her paper the pens rolled off the sheet and onto the floor. I tore her picture in half and then in half again till it was like confetti on the ground. Then, if that was not enough I hit her over the head and ran screaming to my dad, who just stood there staring at this spoilt little three year old who was red in the face and making such a scene that the whole waiting room was looking and staring. The other girl was also whimpering. After, I was made to say “sorry” and pick up all the mess.

We went home.After another couple of days the eye was better and the following week we returned to the park. I still ran and rushed down the slide like nothing had ever happened. However, the one thing that will never leave me, even after 11 years, was the anger that had filled me that day.

That, I will never forget.


I'm Tamara!

Would you like to get a custom essay? How about receiving a customized one?

Check it out