This is My Mom and I on our balcony.
It is from this balcony I used to have baby discussions with our neighbors'
son Carmenuch who stood in diapers on his balcony.
He had chocolate milk and I had white milk.
It is from this balcony that I dropped my favorite baby bunny to see if he would
land on his feet and instead he broke his back
I was devastated.
Downstairs was the furnace and basement which turned into a rental apartment
After we built the second floor the balcony was enclosed into a room as it was upstairs.
The Italians had a marvelous business welding together, winding metal stair cases and my Dad
installed one and it was my job every summer to paint it.
My Mom used to buy me leotards and they were not cheap in those days.
I'd go to school and this little boy Bobby, would push me and
I'd always come home with a hole
My Mother didn't like me going to school with patched stockings and
I'd get a scolding of a lifetime because now she had to fork up
another 5 dollars for a new pair.
Every day I'd come home crying because I had another hole and
I knew I would be blamed.
Finally my Dad explained to me that I am allowed to fight back and
then he took me to
Bobby's Mom and showed her my leotards.
He told her her son needs to stop pushing me in the school yard or
she would be buying me new leotards.
I heard Bobby screeching all the way home, as his Mom
began chasing him around the house.
Boy, did he get it that day. :) :) :)
The next day we became friends at school lol
But my friend Carmenuch, had 3 older brothers .
One day I was playing downstairs and one big brother,
came and for no reason, threw a rock at me.
Seeing that he was ready to do this, I turned and skidaddled
away towards the balcony
but the rock hit me very hard in the back of my head.
My parents kept asking me who did this and all I could say
through tears, was the BIG BOY next door.
Well, turns out it was Dominic who left a dent in my head. lol
He got away with it because I didn't know his name.
Fernando was a nice boy but the oldest boy, I forget his name,
was always fighting with his cousin
who lived a few houses down.
They got into huge boxing fights, tearing ears, which the Mom, a seamstress, would then
have to sit him down on a chair and with a needle and thread
sew his ear back on while he screamed.
If he moved she'd swat him across the head to sit still. lol
When she saw me watching, she smiled at me and winked.
People were tough in those days.
One day my Dad came out to ask the boys why they were always fighting and
they stopped to look at him.
He turned and got two 2 x 4's and began to check them out.
He gave one to one boy and the other to the other boy.
He said if you want to finish the job, just do it with this.
One hit over the head with this and all your problems or reasons for fighting, will be over.
He basically told them they were pussy fighting and should fight like real men.
The two guys looked at each other like my Dad was insane, dropped the 2 x 4's and
that was the last fight we ever saw them have.
They finally became brothers.
All the kids on my street had their day. We'd see the cousin being chased by his own
Dad down the street scared as heck. Not one kid was abusive to his parents.
Every one was bratty but a Mom and Dad were shown respect.
All the boys grew up to be fine husbands,fathers, entrepreneurs and business men.
I was friends of the sister of that cousin and she'd tell me stories about her brother.
One day he came home with a beard and his Dad hated it especially when
they ate spaghetti and he'd get sauce in his beard.
But he was a college boy by then and he knew his Dad hated this so he'd always
make sure to get more sauce into his beard.
Every one at the table laughed watching the Dad fume.
When we finally sold our house, the Italian family who bought it
had a 12 year old son.
I was 15. They asked my Father if he would let me marry their son.
Their son stood there like he was the important buyer of a prize hen.
In other words the question was, Did I come with the house?
lol
I was so shocked. Were they kiddin?
My Dad looked at me sheepishly and said no.
My daughter is not for sale.
My eyes were bulging wide that day.
Say What?
xoxoxoxoxoxo
It is from this balcony I used to have baby discussions with our neighbors'
son Carmenuch who stood in diapers on his balcony.
He had chocolate milk and I had white milk.
It is from this balcony that I dropped my favorite baby bunny to see if he would
land on his feet and instead he broke his back
I was devastated.
Downstairs was the furnace and basement which turned into a rental apartment
After we built the second floor the balcony was enclosed into a room as it was upstairs.
The Italians had a marvelous business welding together, winding metal stair cases and my Dad
installed one and it was my job every summer to paint it.
My Mom used to buy me leotards and they were not cheap in those days.
I'd go to school and this little boy Bobby, would push me and
I'd always come home with a hole
My Mother didn't like me going to school with patched stockings and
I'd get a scolding of a lifetime because now she had to fork up
another 5 dollars for a new pair.
Every day I'd come home crying because I had another hole and
I knew I would be blamed.
Finally my Dad explained to me that I am allowed to fight back and
then he took me to
Bobby's Mom and showed her my leotards.
He told her her son needs to stop pushing me in the school yard or
she would be buying me new leotards.
I heard Bobby screeching all the way home, as his Mom
began chasing him around the house.
Boy, did he get it that day. :) :) :)
The next day we became friends at school lol
But my friend Carmenuch, had 3 older brothers .
One day I was playing downstairs and one big brother,
came and for no reason, threw a rock at me.
Seeing that he was ready to do this, I turned and skidaddled
away towards the balcony
but the rock hit me very hard in the back of my head.
My parents kept asking me who did this and all I could say
through tears, was the BIG BOY next door.
Well, turns out it was Dominic who left a dent in my head. lol
He got away with it because I didn't know his name.
Fernando was a nice boy but the oldest boy, I forget his name,
was always fighting with his cousin
who lived a few houses down.
They got into huge boxing fights, tearing ears, which the Mom, a seamstress, would then
have to sit him down on a chair and with a needle and thread
sew his ear back on while he screamed.
If he moved she'd swat him across the head to sit still. lol
When she saw me watching, she smiled at me and winked.
People were tough in those days.
One day my Dad came out to ask the boys why they were always fighting and
they stopped to look at him.
He turned and got two 2 x 4's and began to check them out.
He gave one to one boy and the other to the other boy.
He said if you want to finish the job, just do it with this.
One hit over the head with this and all your problems or reasons for fighting, will be over.
He basically told them they were pussy fighting and should fight like real men.
The two guys looked at each other like my Dad was insane, dropped the 2 x 4's and
that was the last fight we ever saw them have.
They finally became brothers.
All the kids on my street had their day. We'd see the cousin being chased by his own
Dad down the street scared as heck. Not one kid was abusive to his parents.
Every one was bratty but a Mom and Dad were shown respect.
All the boys grew up to be fine husbands,fathers, entrepreneurs and business men.
I was friends of the sister of that cousin and she'd tell me stories about her brother.
One day he came home with a beard and his Dad hated it especially when
they ate spaghetti and he'd get sauce in his beard.
But he was a college boy by then and he knew his Dad hated this so he'd always
make sure to get more sauce into his beard.
Every one at the table laughed watching the Dad fume.
When we finally sold our house, the Italian family who bought it
had a 12 year old son.
I was 15. They asked my Father if he would let me marry their son.
Their son stood there like he was the important buyer of a prize hen.
In other words the question was, Did I come with the house?
lol
I was so shocked. Were they kiddin?
My Dad looked at me sheepishly and said no.
My daughter is not for sale.
My eyes were bulging wide that day.
Say What?
xoxoxoxoxoxo
7 comments:
I guess he liked older girls huh?
Adam - That's called arranged marriage and it's still done in some cultures.
But it wouldn't have worked with me.
lol
I was surprised they'd be asking my Father and what kind of husband would a 12 year old make ? lol Can you imagine him going to school telling every one he was married?
I teach my boys to be educated and self sufficient before they marry because children need Moms. (and of course grand Moms ;)) )
Thanks for sharing these memories and the photo with us.
Wow...what a ton of memories...
Love getting to know you in debt...
I knew you had some treasures hidden deep within. So happy you shared more of yourself with us.
I love you sweet friend.
I Loved your dad's response..."My daughter is not for sale." Priceless.
Butterfly - I found my old pics and some of the stories are repetitions but This time I tried to fit the story in the time frame of the picture so it makes a little more sense.
Loved this! Childhood memories are my very most favourite! I winced at the ear story and laughed at the 2x4s. What memories! You must remember some more!!! :)
Diane like you I have plenty We sure grew up in interesting times lol
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