Hahaha, while we’re doing “Ushas reminisces about her childhood while stoned”, I’m gonna tell you about the boobies.
Me and my sister had a bunch of these glass craft gems
you know these things
and we kept them in a velvet Crown Royal bag and treated them like they were gems. We didn’t even do anything with them, really, except pour them out and admire them like Scrooge McDuck.
And we called them boobies. I don’t know why, we just did. Why do kids do anything?
(We called the ones where there were two stuck together “double boobies”.)
We were friends with a family of three kids consisting of an older brother (around my age), a middle sister (around my sister’s age), and a younger brother. We always split into two factions whenever they came over: me and the boys on one side, my sister and their sister on the other, and we would fight over possession of the boobies. Each side would try to take the bag away from the other side and hide it where they couldn’t find it or get it.
Every single time I would pretend that I had gotten in a fight with the boys and wanted to join the girls side now, and every time, after much coxing and begging on my part, my sister and her friend would let me be on their team. And I would always betray them as soon as I got an opportunity to steal the bag.
I was a traitor to my gender on a regular basis in order to get my hands on a bag of boobies.
Analyze THAT, Dr. Freud!