Having My Tonsils Removed

Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter — What if? Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers prompts —

The Exercise:

Using the present tense, write an early memory in the first person. This should be something that happened before you were seven. Use only those words and perceptions appropriate to a young child. "My father looks confused" won't do because a five-year-old is incapable of this articulation. "My father has a funny look on his face" is fine. The memory should be encapsulated in a short period of time -no more than an hour or so - and should happen in one place. Don't interpret or analyze; simply report it as you would a dream. When you can't remember details, make them up; you may heighten the narrative so long as you remain faithful to the meaning of the memory - the reason you recalled it in the first place. Limit: 550 words.

The Objective:

A fiction writer should be able to present a narrative without nudging the reader or in any way explaining what she has written. The narrative should speak for itself. In using a child's voice you are forced not to analyze but merely to tell the story, unembellished.

Company! I am lying on the couch. I tell them all about my week. "I got my tonsils tooken en out yesterday. It hurts. My voice don't work." "I got an oven." Auntie Shirley Waywish brought me sumpin.

"I have to lay here. Mom says to take it easy." I want to go sliding. I want to see the puppies. Owww. It hurts." I ask what she brought me. She shows me, and I say, "Popcycles. My favorite!" I get all happy and give her a smiley face.

She goes to put them in the fridge. Mom says that she is my great auntie. When she comes back, I ask if she is the oldest. She says she was the oldest of her sisters.

"None of my kids, my brothers, or my sister had their tonsils out. I am the oldest. Did you, Auntie?" She says no. I say, "You lucky duck! I wish I didn't get mine tooken."

"Maybe everyone will have their tonsils out after. Maybe when they are five. I will open my mouth so you can see the empty spot. Oww. It hurts. I will show you later."

Mom tells me to tell Auntie about school. "Okay, I got to miss kindiegarden and I will go to first grade next time." "Mom says I will go to school." Mom explains Sunday school.

We talk some more and then she goes home. I watch TV and fall to sleep. In my dream, I dream about using my new stove. And my puppies. We are having fun. I fall off the couch and wake up. Crying. My mouth hurts. Mom comes in with a popcycle. I'm better but still hurt.

I think it was too long. I had to stay in. I did use my stove. Baking was okay. Not good like mom. I wish I was in school. I miss my friend.