First Day at Daycare
by Sarah Nixon
The earliest childhood memory that I can think of at this moment was when I was four years old. I remember being in a building that had yellow or tan walls. My mom was carrying me and my brother down this “long” hall and I was crying and my brother was on the verge of tears. I don’t remember seeing any of the kids or teachers. Just that I just knew that my mom was going to leave us there and I tried holding onto her as good as I could.
She kept saying, “Shh. I’ll be back.” I buried my face in her pants and she laughed and said, “Stop that, Sarah. You’re making Satanta upset.” My little brother was looking at me and I didn’t know what he expected but I didn’t care, I just kept crying. Finally my mom said, “Ah, look at the other kids are looking at you.” I didn’t want to look at them but I did my best to stop because I didn’t want to be stared at with tears in my eyes.
It’s funny that peer pressure would work so quickly when I was so young. I don’t remember seeing any children, like I said before and my memories of going to the daycare after that we were always either the first or one of the first kids there, so I doubt anyone had been staring. I wouldn’t change this memory because it makes me laugh.
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