#other memories in this cycle include: spending recess stored away in a corner making an entire city out of little wooden blocks

[mobbothetrue]

i’m struggling to get to sleep a little, so i’m going back over childhood memories and stumbled across one that was almost a one hit KO.

I read a lot as a kid. My parents encouraged this, and got me a lot of books. Enough that, at one point, early in the morning and the only one awake, I was able to cover nearly every square inch of our living room in books. This probably led my parents to the realization that I, perhaps, had too many books, and we should get rid of some.

I was fine with that. I didn’t like to read books twice, you see, because I already knew where they were going and they didn’t entertain me anymore. That’s a philosophy that has changed, somewhat, with age, but that’s besides the point— there were a few books I wanted to keep. Strawberry Shortcake and something to do with mermaids. The few issues of the Beano I had. The Tin Soldier.

My parents boxed up a ton of books, and handed them in to my first grade classroom. Multiple large boxes of books. A comical amount of books. My teacher, Mrs. B, was very appreciative, But.

I don’t remember how this was uncovered. I don’t remember how I realized it, but… the tin soldier had been given away too. I didn’t mention it a paragraph ago, but it was my favourite book. I loved that book. It was about a tin soldier, missing a leg, in love with a princess or a ballerina. He got lost, or dropped, or maybe went on an adventure, I don’t recall, but in the end found his way back to the princess and was happy.

We did look through those boxes. Didn’t find it.

In sixth grade, I moved.

Well— technically, it was the summer between fifth and sixth grade that I moved. Still. In the years between, we never found that book. I had honestly forgotten about it. Sure, I had cried, but I did eventually find other books.

I guess word got around that I was moving. It was… something like the last day of school— not quite the end, but close. I remember snow on the ground, grey and slushy and mostly gone. I was just getting on the school bus to go home when Mrs. B came bustling out of the school.

She caught my backpack handle to get my attention, and I stopped on the steps of the school bus, looking down at her for what may well have been the last time I ever saw her. She had a book in her frail hands. The Tin Soldier.

She had never forgotten. She kept looking for that book. There was an apple sticky note on the front, addressed to me. It said some incredibly kind things, though most of the words are lost to memory. Encourage your creativity, I think, was the gist of it.

I just. Four years. She kept looking for that book for me for four years. I still have it, now, over a decade later. She must have had other, more important things to do. Four years! Where on earth had it been? I still don’t know, can’t imagine what could have possibly happened to it in the interim short of it slipping into a dimensional pocket. I loved that teacher.

#mobbtalks #not really a story with a point I suppose #my parents dd find another copy of the tin soldier for me after accidentally giving mine away #but the art was different and the story was slightly changed #other memories in this cycle include: spending recess stored away in a corner making an entire city out of little wooden blocks #attempting to do so again another recess only to have the teacher assign me as the buddy to the special needs kid. by which I mean she put #him in the same corner as me and told me to look after him #I remember being annoyed at having to share my city but he actually brought some really neat ideas to it #never really interacted again afterwards though. #I hated the teacher who was supposed to look after him though. she was an ass #like one day I came into school smiling and happy and kicked the snow off my boots Onto the Kick Snow Off Your Boots Mat #after like 30-40 other children had already done so- I was in the back of the line #and she came up to me and honest to god went ‘Why are you smiling.’ #so I said ‘today’s my birthday!’ because it was. I was probably turning seven #but that’s just a guess #and she said ‘I don’t care. do you think just because it’s your birthday you can get snow all over? I don’t want you to come to class until #you pick this all up’ and she like gestured at All the Snow tracked in by (again) 30-40 children (a lot of snow) #I remember scooping a couple handfuls outside and then shoving the rest under the mat because I’d be in trouble if I was late to class #went from smiling to tear streaked #… well that’s a sour spot to leave off a post about good memories on #uhhh what else can I recall #I used to get up super early but I’d get up even earlier for Christmas #one year I got up so early. I don’t know how early but I do know it was like WAY earlier than I had ever gotten up before #stared at the tree and the gifts underneath. considered if I could open one (just one!) secretly. decided against because my parents would #be so sad to miss any. stare at tree. stare at tree. vents make weird noise. oh shit the house is haunted and the ghost is gonna get me #ended up on the other side of the house wedges under a lawn chair (???? lawn chair = safety apparently) on top of a vent #(!?? the thing scaring me?!?) #and all three of our cats came out of the woodwork to square up around me. snooks who was honestly just the best no notes 10/10 cat #simba who’d wake me up on other days to beg for pets and then follow me around the house until other people got up #and Missy who Hated me and Hated Children and probably Hated Simba too (but not snooks because snooks was an Angel)