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Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Learning to tie my shoes

3 of 15

I look back on my childhood with a mixture of emotions. On one hand, I sense how magical that time was, all my memories are painted with the lovely golden hue of sepia film. My memories dance with the wanton joy of childhood freedom. Then, there is the well journeyed sophisticate part of my mind that cringes with those memories. For, when I reminisce, I realize that I was one of those horribly untamable children, a true example of hillbilly spawn. I would spend my days clad in nothing more than a diaper, and as I grew my mother was hard pressed to make me wear much else. I don't recall ver...

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