I read something today about the experience of small kids who had the house keys around their neck. That they were afraid of not losing it, that it tasted bad and that it was a huge responsibility on their shoulders.
I forgot this bad part about the experience. I remember playing outside with my key round my neck, on some red piece of something (couldn’t tell what material it was to save my life). I also remember the pride I was now big enough to have the key and to play outside before the parents came from work.
If I’m not mistaken, this used to happen when I was around 7 or 8 and it did not last long. My mom decided it was better to spend the afternoon at some friends’ house who could take care of me and make sure I ate properly at lunch time. I hated it…Couldn’t go home like the rest of my friends, had to go there! However, I only hated it on the way to their house, not once I entered.
They had this nice aquarium with golden colored huge fishes that I loved staring at. They also had a small child that I could play with, when she was not crying or sleeping. I also got to feed her and eat half of the baby food because it tasted sooo good. And of course, it was a mystery for everybody why the baby girl ate everything at her next meal. I knew!
I even made my mom, who I dared confess my sin to, buy me that baby food. Milupa banana flavored, if you must know, and used to have a bowl each afternoon. She only bought it once, as she refused to keep feeding baby food to me. So I continued stealing from time to time.
I stopped craving for baby food after we moved and I was coming straight home after school. I would still eat that food today, if it weren’t for the fact I cannot find the exact type anymore. And the prejudice that a grown up cannot possibly eat that!