Iwent to an open house recently at my childhood home.
I hadn’t seen the inside in almost 20 years. I had so much fun taking that trip down memory lane.
I was four when we moved in. At four I liked blocks and Lincoln Logs. I remember mom and dad putting me in the avocado green-carpeted back bedroom of that house that all three Cooke boys shared for several years.
It had a trundle bed for Ken and me, and baby bed for Dota (Kevin). They closed the bedroom door and left me in there with my toys until they were done moving from our old house on Vogel Street to the new one on Mistletoe Lane.
The house was right across the street from the city park and pool the perfect place for kids.
About the name Dota: Ken was so young 15 months when Kevin was born that he couldn’t say much. We’d tell him to say “baby” or say “Kevin” and he always said “Do Ta” and the name stuck.
It finally morphed into being pronounced “Doodah” but the spelling stayed the same.
I don’t remember what Kevin’s favorite toys were, but I do remember that if he didn’t get his way he would hold his breath until he turned eoue and then finaoly faint.
I think it really scared Po at first/ ut r1 Oarry Selden told her to j ust let it happen. The rest of us kids thought it was hilarious.
Ken’s favorite toy was mom’s Electrolux vacuum cleaner. He was j ust fascinated by it. He was also allergic to everything including soap and disposable diapers, which had j ust made their way to the grocery store shelves.
Mom and Dad had to keep using the cloth ones with him. And then when Kevin came along they j ust kept using them.
Kathy was right down the hall in her own bedroom. Mom and Dad picked out some strange maroon-ish but kind of hot pink-ish carpet for her.
I remember the color for two reasons. One, it later became my bedroom.
Two, every Halloween when she and I got back from trick or treating Kathy would say something like, “Let’s dump all the candy out of our ajs onto the oor and make one huge pile.”
I, naively, fell for this every year without fail. She, of course, would take all the chocolate, and to this day I am fairly indifferent about chocolate.
I’ll eat it but I don’t love it like some people do. I do, however, love Circus Peanuts, N ecco Wafers, black licorice, Sprees, banana taffy, Bit O’ Honey, Candy N ecklaces, rock candy and more.
In other words all the candy she didn’t want.
And later in life she even had the unmitigated gall to make fun of me about my candy choices as if she wasn’t the reason for them.
That yearly instance describes much of my relationship with my big sister until I turned 13 or 14 at zhlfh tlpe finaooy eljhed enough to wrest her out of the best TV-watching seat in the house.
Once when we were living in that house we went on our annual trip to Galveston but we accidentally left Stanley the cat inside.
When we got back a week later as soon as we opened the back door he ran across the backyard and leapt over the 6-foot fence without touching it never to be seen again.
He must have found the toilet water because he chose one of the afore-mentioned trundle bed mattresses to relieve himself for a week.
If you’re around my age you will remember that in those days mattresses had ticking on the outside and were stuffed with cotton batting. N o springs.
That twin-sized mattress was completely soaked and so heavy. Dad never cussed in front of us much when we were young, but when it came time to get that mattress out of the house I remember learning a few choice words.
I can still remember Mom following him down the tiled hallway frantically mopping. N ot cussing but making some very charmless Southern Belle grossed-out noises.
Through all those memorles LÎ findln you fan jo home again. I’m back after 37 years and I love it.
Everyone has been so welcoming. I’ve even had a few people stop by The Report er ust to give me a hug and say “welcome home.”
And, as far as 1901 Mistletoe Lane goes, I’m hoping a family with kids buys it and they en oy growing up there as much as I did.
Visiting there sure did bring back lots of happy childhood memories.
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