My Story in Lists|Memories I Have

One of my earliest memories is a learning lesson. I don't recall a lot about the day, other than we were at the beach in Brazil with my family. I was almost three, growing up at the time there was a much dreaded, "no going into the water until 30 minutes after you eat " rule. Made up no doubt by someone who didn't like children, the water or perhaps both. 

This archaic rule was agonizing to both children and parents. For a child, time seemed to stand for those 30 minutes and no amount of begging, whining, cajoling could get parents to allow him/her to go back to the water a nanosecond sooner. For a parent, those 30 minutes were spent listening to said child beg, whine, cajole every minute, asking if it was time to go back to the water yet. 

I'm thinking that had something to do with the fact that somehow, I found myself standing at the edge of the sand, where the water rushed towards me and back, calling to me to run in, with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my hand. It was too much for a toddler with a love of the water to take. Before I knew it, I was getting my feet wet, then my ankles and then the water washed over my entire body. I hung tight to my sandwich.

As the water pulled away, I stood there in triumph. This time I had stood firm, the wave had not knocked me to my bottom, my now soggy sandwich was still in hand. I lifted it to my mouth, hungrier than ever and took a bite. My tastebuds recoiled in shock. Instead of a chewy peanut butter taste, I was greeted with a salty limp mess of what was once my lunch. 

That was the moment I learned that you could not eat while playing in the water. Or even more explicitly, you could or should not eat a peanut butter sandwich that had been kissed by a wave.