A 12 Year Olds Autobiography- Part 1

I found something interesting the other day when I was attempting to organize boxes. "Attempting" would be the key word because I usually get a good start and then lose steam when it comes to organization. I'm working on it, slowly. Anyway, I stumbled upon my old 6^th grade autobiography. I know what you're thinking, what in heaven could you have to write about after only 12 years on this earth? Or maybe you too had to write a 6^th grade autobiography and you're wondering what goofy stuff you may have written?

I thought I would share some of this fine writing I did as a kid because you might get a giggle or 2 out of it. I may write a few more of these pieces, sharing my 12 year old wisdom with the masses. For now, let's just start with, "When I Was Born". I'm thankful you can't see how horrific my hand writing was then, not that it is much better now. I am writing this just as I wrote it in 6^th grade, grammatical errors and all!

"I was born on Wednesday April 15, 1970 at 8:34 P.M. I weighed 7 pds. and 13 ozs. and I was a healthy baby. I was born in Valley Medical Hospital. My doctor was Dr. Winkler. My mom said I was her best baby. The day I was born my mom was at the house alone. Her water broke and she didn't have a phone so she went over to her neighbors and used their phone. When the neighbors asked what was wrong my mom told them her water broke and they thought she meant the water pipes in the house.

I was healthy enough to go home in a few days. My mom was glad I was a healthy baby and so was I. In the waiting room was my aunt Dixie and uncle Roy, and some of my mom and dads friends.

As I grew up I got a little meaner but not much. I never slept with a bottle in my mouth, but when I got my walker I took off like "Flash Gordon". I would go up to my brother and sister and try to pull their hair and scratch them. But besides all that I was a pretty good baby."

Well now, apparently trying to harm my siblings did not qualify me as a bad baby in my eyes! I always loved my mom's story about the neighbors thinking she needed to call a plumber for her broken water. She was actually calling my dad to get his butt home quickly to take her to the hospital, but not before they stopped to get her a pepsi first. I blame mom for my pepsi addiction now. Stay tuned for more of my goofy childhood writings.

Source: me at age 12 and age 39

Here are the links for Parts 2, 3 and 4 of this autobiography:

Part 2Part 3Part 4-Final Chapter