Earliest Memory

I don't have so much of my earliest memory. But I do remember a ginormous stuffed Elmo that I loved to shreds. I think I was two or three. And we still lived in California. The house with the dark brown, grease-sticky floors that my dad covered with those foam blocks with letters on them. And then we come back to the Elmo. Since I was a little kid, the thing seemed a bajillion feet tall. I don't exactly remember everything. But I know that it had a huge head with hard plastic eyes and a orange nose. I think it was a plush orange nose. But it had lanky arms and legs, and a pretty egg-ish body. But it was red and had long hair. As all little kids do, I probably spilled some stuff on it. Or got it all sticky.

Ugh, now that I think of it, the Elmo was probably all gross and matted. Like a dog that hasn't had a bath in all its life. But that isn't what I was supposed to write about. Soooo, back to Elmo. It was gross. Yeah, straight and to the point. My dad told me that I loved it so much I didn't want to get rid of it. But sadly, I had horrible dust allergies when I was a little kid. Well I still do. But I deal with it. Yeah. I think I had the Elmo all my life, so I hung around it all the time. Since dust mites, the creator of dust, eat dead skin and crap out dust. Excuse my French. So my dad got rid of it. Poor Elmo. May he rest in peace.