Memories as a kindergartener...

Some of my first memories began when I was 5'ish. I remember the day we moved out of our apartment on Ximeno Avenue in Long Beach to the house on Josie Avenue. I think my first memory ever is of me sitting alone on the steps at the apartments; metaphor for my life. Hectic move that was. One of the first days at the house (which my dad's grandparents had lived in), my mom is doing some work in the backyard. She asks me to bring her the hose sprayer dealie, which was made of metal, and heavy for me. Just as I got to her I dropped it on my bare foot. It hurt. I cried. My mom yelled at me and sent me to my room.

Whenever I hear Rosie demand someone go to his room, my spine quivers just a teensy bit.

 

When I was in first grade, my grandma got my family tickets to see Charlie Rich, Donna Fargo, Freddy Fender, Johnny Rodriguez and Conway Twitty all on the same bill.

I dunno wtf she was thinking, really.

I'd go to stubhub.com and see what the going rate is for the show. From there, if you think it's worth selling, then do it. You can always pull them off stubhub if you wanna go anyway.

And if you do go, thank your lucky stars she didn't make you go see The Wiggles.

 

Or the doodlebops ...

 

Thanks everyone for all the heartfelt answers...Couple more points I thought I would bring up since others had inquired about them:

1. My daughter and I actually have had a lot of "daddy-daughter" days already. We've gone to an amusement park, sporting events, and the park among others, especially in the summer. We can't do it as much during school (especially since she has 90 minutes of homework as a kindergartener most nights), but I still have lunch with her at the school at least once a week. So, I realize the importance of them, for sure. But I understand why folks might have wondered about that.

2. She is the most kindhearted child any father could ever wish to have, and never "expects" anything. She'll split the last cookie in the jar, so her 2-year old brother isn't left out, and can leave a toy store empty-handed (and has, many times). She was disappointed not to go to the local concert, but in a "wish I could have gone" way instead of a "stomping her feet upset" way.

3. I understand the point about getting her everything she wants, so that is definitely a consideration. She makes it hard not to, because of how she is, but I realize this could have consequences later.

4. The six-hour drive is no big deal for her. She's done it twice in the last two months (when school was out), and has done it at least three other times in the last year. She knows the drill with that, and I've also learned to leave very early in the am so she sleeps most of the way anyway. And, FYI, the concert is on a Wednesday, so it would definitely mean two days out of school.

5. I came up with the original profit figure from checking ebay. The two tickets were a total of $110, counting fees, and I've seen similar tickets fetch close to $500 already. So, $300 is probably conservative, but I don't think it'll go a lot higher.

6. If she wanted to see the Wiggles, she'd be out of luck. Hannah Montana is at least something I can stomach, but the Wiggles would be a dealbreaker.

Thanks again for the advice.

 

One of my favorite memories is something that happened when I was 4. My parents were busy all of the time, so I didn't see them a whole lot, aside from being in my mother's kindergarten classroom -- she was my teacher for half the school day. I'd be at the babysitter's in the morning, then in my mom's class. Then we'd drive to a girl's house, so my mom could give her piano lessons. I'd look at my snake books and eat a bowl of ice cream the girl's mom gave me to pass the time. Then my mom and I would go home, and that was about it for us.

Like any little kid, I always asked for things. And being the youngest of three at the time -- a year and change before my brother's birth; that cocksucker -- I usually got it. So I had matchbox cars and legos and He-man action figured and G.I. Joes. I was far from deprived.

Well, one night, my mom was out somewhere and my dad had a staff meeting; he was a marching band director at a large school in New York, so he had all the staff over to the house once a week. My dad sent me to bed late at night -- probably around 8 or 9 p.m., which was late for this little fucker at the time -- and I fell asleep.

The next thing I remember is my mom peeling open my eye lid to wake me up. The light was still off, but she left the door open so I could see what she was doing. She said, "Wake up, Michael. Look what I got you tonight?" And she held up a package with Crystal Ball, a G.I. Joe action figure, in it. I don't think I could have been happier. I ripped open the box, gave my mom a hug -- in that order -- got up and played for a few more minutes. Shit, you've got to try the fucker out, right?

She left the room to go back to the staff meeting and closed the door, I'm sure watching me smile the entire way out of my room.

Anyway, the point of this is, it doesn't matter how much scratch you spend on the kid or really what you do for her. She'll always remember the special things, the things you don't think are major, because she knows that you were doing them just for her.

It took me about 35 minutes to find that action figure's name and picture. But I'll never forget the way he looked. And it's not because he's an ugly motherfucker. It's because when I think back to that night, I see my mom smiling behind his box. And it's because she cared enough about me to let me know I was special.

 

I remember no singular entertainment event from the kindergarten days.

I think my memories of that time involve people. I can still recall my friends' and classmates' faces...some names too. I remember my teacher, bus driver, what I wore for Halloween, Christmas at the grandparents...and some other things which come to me at odd times.

 

TB, the story I'm about to tell you may have taken place when I was 6 or 7 instead of 5, so you can take that into account.

I was the second of four boys born in span of 4 1/2 years. When my parents got married they bought a record store and made good money for a couple years before a new department store started selling records for less than my parents could buy them as a ploy to get people into the store. The store went belly-up and, obviously, so did the family finances. A few years later my dad had an OK job. He liked the work but was only making about 2-somethng an hour (we're talking middle 60s).

We moved in 1964 and this must have been about two or three years later (making me 6 or 7). My older brother had a Schwinn 20-inch bike with the high handle bars and the banana seat. My bike was his hand-me-down of inch tires and no coasting ability. I simply couldn't keep up with my brother and the other neighborhood kids. He'd let me ride it every now and then when he wasn't using it, but on a particular spring Saturday afternoon he and the other kids were out riding and I couldn't go on the junker bike I had.

I remember coming out the side door of the house alone and my dad was washing the car. He asked what was wrong and I told him my brother and the other kids were out riding but I couldn't. Trust me, I understand today how tight money was, but my dad said, "get in the car" and we drove to a bike shop. He took $35 that was supposed to go to a doctor bill and made arrangements withthe shop owner to pay the last 15 or 20 bucks at a later date and bought me a 20-inch Schwinn and made me the happiest kid in the world. The thought never crossed my mind that he could or should do that.

I tell you this story because I'm now 47 and my dad is 70 and I still think about that day at least a couple of times a year when I reflect on having the two greatest parents in the world (and it's getting a bit dusty in this room right now as I type).

Kids remember their parents doing great things for them many, many years later.

I say take her to the show and have a great time.

 

i'm honestly surprised (and dumbfounded) that not one single replying poster in this thread has done the right thing:

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

i stopped keeping an official tally when everyone it was 15-0 in favor of SAYING YES to this horrible decision. i pray all of you who voted in favor of this do not have children.

you're honestly seeking advice on whether you should DRIVE YOUR FIVE YEAR OLD SIX HOURS to see some OVERPRICED, ARTIFICIALLY HYPED FLAVOR OF THE MONTH TEENY BOP ACT, in which you will be PULLING YOUR DAUGHTER OUT OF SCHOOL FOR TWO DAYS in order to do? and you even admit YOU CAN'T AFFORD IT. you can't even read the writing on the wall. since you're obviously failing at being a parent good enough not to raise self-absorbed, immediate gratification dependent children , i'll spell it out for you:

YOUR JOB AS A PARENT IS TO TELL YOUR KIDS NO.

you seriously need your head examined. as you already mentioned by making an impulse purpose, you're not exhibiting the rational behaviors of a successful parent. you obviously should have thought this out better. she's fucking FIVE YEARS OLD! kids are eating crayons, paste and dirt at that age. SHE'S IN FUCKING PRE SCHOOL! she's probably still sucking her thumb. i think this is the thing that blows my mind the most. she's a fucking PRE SCHOOLER! oh, she's a "huge fan" because she wanted the fucking hannah montana barbie for christmas. give me a fucking break. don't you remember being five years old? you have the most primitive needs and desires at that age than any other. playing with the right blocks at pre school, playing in the water tub, getting the ok to play with your next door neighbor or with your gi joes, eating certain food at home and another treat are all they care about and enough to make a happy, personally fulfilling day. your daughter won't remember anything worthwhile from this stunt and you are setting a number of poor examples for her.

why are you taking a five year old to a concert where loud music will be blasted over speakers in an enclosed atmosphere? jesus, kids have the most sensitive and pre-developed hearing and seeing concerts isn't even necessarily healthy without earplugs for adults. earplugs won't be much of a help, she isn't use to the high decibel level in the first place.

most importantly, i'm shocked and appalled you're willing to pull your child out of school for not one, but TWO DAYS to do this. what kind of example are you setting for your daughter? that it's ok to skip school for personal pleasure? education should be the highest priority for your daughter in all aspects of her life and your teaching her that it's really secondary to everything else. not good.

you even admit you can't afford to see the fucking show! driving 12 hours round trip anywhere is very expensive now a days. and yet you couldn't weigh the pros/cons of the situation and make a sound decision, even after this admittance. wow.

it's pretty simple. you want to give your FIVE YEAR OLD daughter the best day of her life? make her favorite food for her, take her to a local park, rent her a video, let her stay up an hour later, let her choose which tv show to watch, let her hang out with a neighbor friend, read a book with her, laugh with her, teach her something, or something very simple but much more emotionally fulfilling for a FIVE YEAR OLD.

a fool and his money are soon parted.

 

one thing is blatant after reading your post: you are not a parent.

if you are, i now pity your child more than any other human being on the face of the earth.

i dismiss your thoughts on this subject just as i'd dismiss yawn's thoughts on selecting a supreme court justice. that is all.

 

she's five years old.

 

So she doesn't deserve a major treat from her dad?

 

quote: "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?"