We went from a two bedroom apartment to a three bedroom apartment within the same complex when my brother, Andy came along.

Andy was born in French Camp, a suburb of Stockton, California.

As us kids got a little older, we would make fun of him for being born in French Camp. I don’t know why we thought being born in French Camp was an insult, but we did, and Andy always fell for it.

But I am getting ahead of myself…

When Andy was over a year and walking, we moved to a yellow house on 8th Street that was two blocks behind the apartments that we had been living in.

If Andy was over a year when we moved to the yellow house, that would put me just over four being that I am three years older than him.

I bring up my age because it is during this time, this age, when my little brain starts to retain images and little but clear memories.

It is in this yellow house, us kids would gather on the sofa with my mom and pass around long neck glass bottles of Pepsi, each taking a swig and being careful not to choke on one of the peanuts that was put in it for good measure.

It is also in this house that I almost got my tongue yanked out of my face and rightfully so.

I was sitting on the living room floor and my aunt, Sylvia, mom’s sister, was sitting at the piano. She is hitting keys and at some point, turns her head over her left shoulder and looks at me.

As soon as our eyes lock, I stick my tongue out at her. It’s a bratty tongue but I don’t care.

Aunt Sylvia’s expression doesn’t change at the sight of my tongue, but she does call out to my mom, “Margie, Missy stuck her tongue out at me!”

My mom comes out of the kitchen and tells me to go sit at the end of the hallway, facing the wall. I go but I don’t face the wall.

She has a fork in her hand and brings it to my eye level.

Then she asks me, the million dollar question, “Do you want me to take your tongue out with this fork?”

Although I knew she wouldn’t really do it, I went along with her question and shook my head, no.

Sticking my tongue out at Aunt Sylvia did not ruin her day because I think it was right after this that her and Uncle Frank were both riding Jon’s skateboard in the front yard.

I cringe now as a bonafide adult when I think about having done this and I am so thankful that my aunt didn’t give me a well deserved smack-a-roo.

~missy salcido wead