share your little boy/girl story.....

I was little....maybe 4? It was Christmas and we were at my aunt's house. The cousins and I were outside playing in the snow. Suddenly, I heard a bunch of people singing. I looked around and couldn't see anybody singing. Went to my mom and asked her what it was.

She said, "Oh, that's just the Carolers." At this point in life, I didn't know what that meant. So I asked her what Carolers were. Mom was never good at describing things to me, so she just said, "you know, Carolers". So, I did what I always did at that age when I didn't know what a word meant. I tried to figure it out with context. I also had an insanely powerful imagination. Okay, so it's Christmas. I hear a bunch of disembodied voices singing "Silent Night", It's Jesus's birthday. Okay, "Carolers" are probably a kind of angel, that sing in celebration of Christ's birth, every year on Christmas. I also decided that they did it at the time of Christ's birth...I couldn't tell time yet, but it was in the late afternoon, Central Time if you're curious. I looked up in the sky, and that powerful imagination of mine kicked in. I could 'see' them up there in heaven, looking down at the world and singing with the most beautiful smiles on their faces.

SO boring and disappointing when I later found out it was just people going door to door and singing Jingle Bells.

I was 12 years old and all my friends had started their period and had boobs lol.
It was mortifying and I'm still waiting for big boobs 🤣

My childhood was full of violence, bloody beatings as discipline, street gang fist rock and some weapons (No Guns) fights as a poor kid growing up inner city until my father got a good job and moved us out to the country.

I found a kids dropped money once from candy sales for school and gave it back to him when he said he dropped it on the way to school.

Collected pop bottles (Glass ones) for their .10 cent return price and walked out of the store to be robbed by teenagers at knife point, one of them beat the hell out of my friend while telling the guy with the knife to stab me as I ran away.

Sorry my life was different.

I must have been 5 or 6. We lived in an apartment in a trashy neighborhood (I didn’t know bad stuff happened all around us, but my older sister remembers). I had my little group of friends who I’d hang out with at the sandbox. There was this red fence around it, and the kids told me it was blood, and that there were bodies buried in the sand. If we stayed too long standing in it, a hand would reach out and drag us under.

We took turns running across as fast as we could to not get dragged. Then we’d go off and dumpster dive or something. I found a calculator and thought it was a Turtle-com (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was my favorite show back then). We found a mirror once, and I was flashing reflected light around on things; one time in a guy’s eyes. He was looking around for who did it, and we got scared and ran. 🤭

There was this mean little boy in our group. Mean to everyone but me. He used to bring us snacks. When I told him my family was moving, he gave me something he found in the dumpster: a jewel. I was so impressed. As an adult, I know it was one of those plastic things on cheap chandeliers. But to a little kid, it was a treasure.

I was 5 and we lived on Lake Ontario outside of Youngstown, NY. I took a walk by my self and decided it would be fun to go over the bank to get to the beach. I was holding on to some tree roots but got scared and froze there not being able to go down or up. I yelled and yelled for help and finally someone rescued me. I went back to that spot years later and that bank was about 6' high. 😂

I integrated my Catholic school at age six and was bullied quite a bit. But one situation turned out differently. One boy always went out of his way to bug me, would take away the tetherball if I was playing, hide my books, and began chasing me home.

I ran down the main street, but once I got past [b]his[/b] cross street, I was home free; he’d go no further. He started watching for me in the morning and when I passed by that street en route to school, I’d hear, "[b]Hey !"[/b] and start running. It became a ritual, and he never said much once we got to school. I wasn’t afraid of him, somehow.

One morning, when I passed by his street and he approached, he was with his brother.
He said, "Hey !" and I ran.
Then his brother called me the "N" word.
I stopped running, heard noises and looked back.
They were fighting.

I walked on to school.
Later, looking disheveled, he came up to me.
"Listen, we don’t hate you because you’re [b]colored[/b].
We hate you because you’re a [b]girl[/b]."

Not knowing what to say, I nodded and walked on. But the chases stopped.

I saw him throughout the rest of my school days; we would greet each other, and by high school we were actually friends.

He is now a well-respected pediatrician in Belmont. 👨🏻‍⚕️

When I was about 5 my friend and I tried to buy candy at the store with a mustard colored rock that we were convinced was gold.
The cashier thought it was funny but no candy.

When I was about the same age as you were in your story, my parents and I spent a weekend in the Catskill mountains. There were a lot of duck feathers on the ground, so I picked them up, went to the pool area, and went around selling them for a penny each. people must have thought I was cute, as they smiled and paid me a penny.

When my mother found out, she told me it was wrong, and she made me go and give everyone their penny back. Most didn't want to -- I had to persuade them to take it!

when i was ~10 me and buddy stole a $20 outta the mom&pop shop's cash box, from which we felt so bad afterwards, that we got caught trying to sneak back $10 in loose change into the next day.
aaaanyways 🤷‍♂️