I remember lurching my little body to the edge of the twin bed just in time to ***** on the floor.
I remember sharing a room with my sister.
I remember the feeling of immense pride as I pedaled by Little Mermaid bike across the lawn - finally without training wheels.
I remember my new dog getting sprayed by a skunk before my sixth birthday party.
I remember my dad putting her in a plastic tub full of tomato juice in hopes of washing away the putrid odor.
I remember having tons of friends to invite to birthday parties.
I remember not needing validation from people in order to be happy.
I remember laying in the backseat of the car as the streetlights flew by.
I remember when my sister threw a *** of bubblegum in my hair.
I remember washing the gum out with peanut butter.
I remember chunky copper highlights in my black hair.
I remember the first big fight.
I remember needing to rush my sister out into the rain to avoid all of the yelling.
I remember understanding that separating was the best thing for everybody.
I remember kissing in lemonade stands.
I remember dead-end streets and riding my bike down them.
I remember the walk to my elementary school.
I remember simpler times.