A lot of my memories revolve around food.I will often find myself reminded of something that happened during my childhood. Suddenly, I am pulled back, head first into being five again. I want to say that all of my memories happened when I was five. Five seems like the perfect age to me.I remember being very happy at five. My parents were together, we lived in this huge house in Cabbage Town, and there were tons of kids who lived on my street. My Sister Eden had just been born, so I was still the kid in the family.I remember being very independent; being out by myself in my neighbourhood. Back then parents didn't worry about their kids, neighbourhood watch really did exist.
Yesterday while riding the bus home from work, I was reminded of one of those five year old memories. I was raised in a non-sugar, no junk food household. I can easily justify this, by the fact, that my cakes had raisins on them, instead of chocolate chips.On this one day, I was out riding my little red bike. I remember going around and around the block for what seemed like hours. I had acquired some pocket money and went and bought black licorice. I loved that stuff, more than I do today. I would only eat the black, because, even at the age of five I knew that the red wasn't real licorice. After riding around and eating black licorice, I went home. My nanny opened the door and took one look at me and her face when stone cold. She quickly rushed me up to the washroom and cleaned my face. I had black licorice from cheek to cheek. My lips, mouth and tongue had turned black. She knew that I wasn't supposed to be eating sugar, she saved me from being discovered by my mother. I can still remember the taste of that licorice, the sensation of having it stuck all over my face, the guilt that I felt from indulging in something so sinful.
My Sweet Beautiful sister
