The summer I was 10 years old
I spent a lot of time with my cousins on the weekends.
Every weekend one of my cousins, who is roughly the same age as I am, and I would build a tent in her bedroom and live in it for the time I was there, during which we found a boombox and some blank cassette tapes. We spent many a weekends recording our own voices and making a radio program, playing every single part ourselves — hosts, recording artists, guests, and advertisers. During this time we also wrote a collection of silly poems in MS Word about things like thongs and ugly people, and our guests on the show would often be Important Writers coming to read their Original Works.
The culmination of all of this work was us sitting our family down around the dining room table and subjecting them to hours of poorly edited recordings of us goofing around. We laughed so hard at our own jokes that we were crying and slapping the table while her stunned parents sat mostly in silence.
When all was said and done my aunt got mad at me for teaching her daughter what a dildo is and explaining to her other daughter what LSD was when she asked. In retrospect those weekends are probably some of the greatest weekends I had growing up and I was a bit disheartened when I realised how easily it was for me to completely for get about them. I bet I still have those tapes somewhere.
I should find them for my time capsule.
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