I’ve always wondered what our earliest memories mean, and how they may form us.
My earliest memory is of clown sheets. Yep. You heard me. Clown sheets. IN. MY. CRIB!!!! My parents apparently bought a unisex crib with unisex clown sheets, and a clown on the side. Yes, this explains A lot. My entire life I’ve been terrified of clowns, but my mom never told me about my first resting place and the part it played in my fear.
I had an epiphany one day, when I was in my twenties, while I was having lunch with my mom. An image of a clown suddenly popped into my head. The clown had a white painted face, and was holding three balloons: red, yellow and blue. I could see it on the side of my face – assuming it was my sweet baby cheek pressed against this horrifying clown, in my crib and I see it out of the corner of my crying eye. I can only imagine I was waking up from a nightmare and there he was, a clown on my crib sheets, holding balloons, and smiling.
When I asked my mom about it she burst into laughter, a cackle really. This confirmed it. See she had known about the clown crib and never told me, or my brother. So when I had my aha moment and realized how they had tortured their loving infants, I realized all of my clown fears go back to that sheet. She thought it was hilarious.
So that’s a little peak into my magical childhood and all it’s glory. Do I really loathe clowns because of those sheets? I’d say yes, and I get to blame my parents for the rest of my life. The moral of the story is: don’t ever buy clown sheets, even if they are on sale, or you think they are cute, just don’t do it. They will probably come back to haunt you, literally.
Authentic B 