I find myself thinking back on my youth these days trying to separate fact from fiction. Sometimes you remember things that really happened, and sometimes you remember the story about what happened. This has been a very interesting topic between my mother and I over the years. I don't remember a lot of things , but what I do remember I seem to have a lot of detail about, or it could be my imagination.
When I was about 7, around the lunch box assault age, I was a dirt digger. I dug in any dirt I could find, and I found it believe me. Once I was leaning against the church/school building that we went to and started toe digging by the foundation. Soon, I was down digging in earnest and I made a wonderful discovery. It was small and grey, and lumpy, and looked like a brain...I had discovered a dinosaur brain!!! I just knew it! It was a little soft, like a brain should be, and just the right size according to playground information at the time. I showed every one I came across, and since the school was K-12, that was a wide range of ages. The older kids just smiled and said "wow, cool" or something kind like that, and the younger ones didn't care (or were jealous) about the importance of my discovery. I was happy, yes and a little smug. The last person I showed my treasure to was my sister. And I quote..."That's gum stupid" end quote.
The moral to this story is... be thankful it wasn't something worse.
Or...Maybe dinos had gum for brains.
Or...Don't show your wonderful treasures to your sister.
Or...One persons trash is another persons treasure