I was two years old and in the hospital. I have some vague memories of this.
I remember being in an oxygen tent.
It was a clear plastic covering over my crib.
My mother kept saying how lucky I was, I was the only one on the ward with my own ‘house’!
I remember the nurses yelling at me to stop eating all the ice that was in the bucket at the foot of the crib.
I remember Dr. Newhart bringing me a new box of fat crayons and a coloring book.
I remember disliking the coloring book because it was so babyish!
So instead of coloring in the coloring book I colored the sheet.
Every square inch of the sheet!
My mother said they had to throw it out because there wasn’t one single spot of white left.
I remember being very proud of my artistic endeavors! I just couldn’t figure out why nobody else was!
I also remember the day my mother came to take me home. This little doll was all alone in the big hatbox suitcase she brought with her.
I don't remember if I named her, but she is the only doll I've kept from my childhood.
She is two years younger than I am!
(I hope I’m wearing better! LOL)