Childhood memories

May 28, 2009
By Anonymous

Childhood memories

One of the most fun moments that happened in my life, happened when I was a kid. They involved boots, a neighborhood of children, and a lot of mud. We were kind of acting like the coast guard of the neighborhood.

It started when my sister and I noticed that the Brown’s were in the backyard. We overheard them talking a one way conversation “don’t worry I’ll get you out.” Replied with “Ouuu” she was balling. We went outside to see what was up. It seemed that the older brother got stuck when he was trying to get his sister, Alyssa, out. She was in my first grade class that how I knew her name. Knowing that they would need help, we got the Lignell’s and some other kids. “Hey you guys c’mon. The Brown’s got stuck behind our house.” We told the Lignell’s. “What, how’d they get stuck?” “There is a giant mud pit in our backyard that’s how they got stuck. So go!” Then we suited up with boots and old clothes. My sister Kylie led the valiant rescue. The first steps I took into the deep, squishy mud, I realized this was going to be a lot harder than I predicted.
The mud went up to just below the top of my boots which was almost to my shin. It was when someone actually made it to Alyssa and her brother that the easy rescue fell apart. Alyssa was in the mud with her hands and feet stuck when someone reached her. “Alyssa, you got to try to get up, you’re not doing anything.” “I can’t I’m stuck!!” I was only about halfway to them with some of the other younger kids. Through the struggling of moving through the mud, several people had fallen. Making various grunts and groans before they fell. The Mud had its sloshy hand holding us down. Just for you to picture what it was like you’d be walking beside someone and then they would just fall. I remember pulling someone out doing that made me fall out of my shoes. The mud had engulfed my hands, legs, and butt. I looked around at the ruined rescue their were people hobbling back to their boots, with mud dominating their faces. I fought to get back up.
Now there are these goat heads (thorns) that were part of the newly developing neighborhood. This turned out against us. As a few of us fell, myself included, we found out that deep within the mud that it had hidden these thorns. They ended up in our hands and feet. Some the kids would make an “Ouuu!” and then cry a little to get the attention of the nearest help. I remember some of the girls “I can’t get up, their in my feet.” Followed by an “O, my”. I took a fall and got a couple into my hands. I couldn’t move because I was so stuck in the mud. These thorns embedded themselves into my palms. Then I called half sobbed “Kylie, come help me”. Like the good older sibling she was she rushed over to my side. I also had a goat head stuck in my foot. I tried to hop over to my lost shoe and slipped it on. When I had looked around some of the people had already left. The people in need were almost out. That was when the rest of the party was pulling was pulling out.
It took awhile to get out, but we finally made it out. My parents had come home and wondered what had happened. “Why are you guys so dirty?” “I’ll tell you why. That big freaking’ mud pit in the backyard, that’s why.” After we had gotten out and cleaned up, I looked down on the mud pit. It was waiting ominously for its next, unsuspecting, victims with the remains of someone’s boot waiting in its midst...

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book