User:Loes van Dorp/own memories

White cats

It was December 1987 and I was always the first one awake in the house.

To not wake the others ( my brother and parents) I was allowed to play downstairs. That is what I did on the 12th of december.

I made a football team with all my small dolls and let the team with the small animals win. The cat ( Mauwtje) was sitting in front of the window. Suddenly he started meowing.

I unlocked the door to scare away the anoying white cats of the neighborhood who were always teasing our cat. I really hated them.

Not very later the cat started meowing again. I looked out the window to see if it were the white cats again. Only to see a man standing by the door and knocking on it.

I do not remember why, but I opened the door just a little. Maybe I thought I could help this man.

"Do you want to hold my willy?" He asked me. I do not remember if I answered, but I know I was scared and closed the door very quick. I locked the door with only the lock on

the bottom. To lock the upper one too I had to stand on a chair and look him in the eye, therefore I didn't lock that one.

In the hope he would leave by himself I tried to ignore him and took a game book with word puzzles in it. With one eye I kept looking at the door, to see if the man still was there.

He hadn't left and was pushing his willy against the window door. He was wearing a yellow raincoat.

After a couple minutes I walked to the stairs and called for my father "Dad, there is a man at the door asking me to hold his willy"

Before my dad was down, the man was gone and we heard the sound of a motorcycle leaving.

My mother washing the window, the police coming over.

My mother explaining that the man was sick. There was something wrong in his head and he needed help.

The police came to hear my story and wanted to catch the man.

I felt really sad for him and didn't want him to be in jail, because he was sick and needed help.

It was my parents weddingsday.

others about this memory

New Shoes

Finally the day was there. I just turned six and together with my father we would go to town to buy a new pair of shoes.

Outside the weather was like autumn days can be like; windy.

"Do you want to cycle yourself, or sit on the crossbar with me?" my Father asked me.

I didn't like to cycle in hard wind and sitting on the crossbar was always very exciting. "on the crossbar!" was my answer.

With the strong wind in our faces we were on our way to the shoe store. Out of happiness and excitement I was not able to sit still and started swinging with my legs.

Suddenly I felt pain in my left leg and saw everything happening next in slow-motion. My left leg had blocked the front wheel of the bike. This resulted in a rollover of the bike.

My father flew off the bike and made a small salto in the air before landing on the ground. He shove over the ground for a small distance before coming to a standstill.

I found myself on the ground next to the bike with a very painful left leg. I was crying, because of the pain.

A man who was passing by in his car saw it all happen and stopped to help us.

He offered us a ride to the hospital. My father carried me in the car, I was not able to walk.

We both set in the front of the car. Instead of our trip to the shoe store, we went to the hospital.

Ironically the man who drove us there, was a shoe maker for living. In his car were a lot of boxes with shoes. My father and I were laughing about this.

My mother had been working all day and didn't know better then to see me with my new shoes.

It was a real surprise for her to find me with only one new shoe, a plastered one.

The stairs

I had walking plaster on my leg and was able to walk around on it.

My brother and I were playing at the stairs. The big pillow on the bottom of the stairs, we jumped of the steps.

Each time we were able to jump one we went one step up. I stopped at step 4, because I had to be a bit careful with my leg, didn't want to end in the hospital again.

My brother went higher and higher, until he was able to jump from the top step of the stairs.

After he did that a couple of times without making an mistake, he called our parents and grandparents. "Look what I can do!"he said to them.

And before they could protest he jumped of the top of the stairs. He was a little bit too enthusiastic and therefore putted a little too much power in his take off.

He jumped too high and smacked his head to the sealing and fell straight down and landed with his back on the upper three stairs.

We were all in shock. I kept saying to my parents that he was able to do it before without getting hurt.

Match

It was a Sunday morning that my older brother and decided to make breakfast for our parents. (I was 7 or 8 years old.)

We were wearing morning robes and pyama's. My brother lighted a match to put on the fire for the tea. The head of the match flew of the stick while being on fire.

It flew on my robe and my robe caught fire. I started screaming and jumping hysterically.

My brother stayed very calm and just unknotted my robe which made it fall down and we easily could put out the fire.

Front door

I came back from school, happily hopping. I think it was in the afternoon. Our parents were at work and my brother and I were allowed to be alone in the house for the short time before there arrival.

If there was something wrong we could always go to the neighbors or to friends of our parents who lived in the same street.

My brother had a key and was always sooner home than me. I wasn't allowed to have a key yet.

I ringed the front door to let my brother open it. When he did not came to open it, I ringed again, this time longer.

He opened the living room door and made a gesture with his hand to give me the message that I had to walk around the houses to the backdoor. I thought that was quit annoying,

since he was already standing in the hallway and could just as easy open the door.

I protested by shaking my head and ringing the doorbell again for a very long time.

This made my brother really furious and he opened the hall closet and turned the doorbell off.

Now he was even more close to the door. Out of madness started knocking on the door. My brother knocked back harder on the other side of the window.

I responded by knocking even harder, which he immediately did as well. That was the moment the window broke. We were both startled. I remember there was blood on my brothers knuckles.

We both felt very foolish and kept blaming ourselves. We went to our parents friends who lived just behind our house. I think they called my father who worked two blocks away from our home.

My father putted some wood in front of the window and the wounds of my brother weren't that deep.

We didn't get punished as far as I remember. The shock and the fact that we both blamed ourselves seemed a punishment enough...

Aai poesje, Aai Poesje... Rotkat!

coming soon

Crash with Brother on bike and a car

coming soon

Broken frontdoor window

coming soon