Books and Butterscotch

Books and Butterscotch

A Story by Breezy

The strongest memory I have is climbing to the top of my mother’s 1975 Maple Wood carved bookcase to get my grubby hands on the bright red book and butterscotch candies. I remember falling off that bookcase after hearing my mother call my name sharply"I was in trouble. Though she didn't tan my hide just then because I split my eight-year old head open on the coffee table"no, Mother waited until I could see straight a week later to give me that beating.


When I was thirteen, I was still much the troublemaker I was at eight. I frequently skipped class to read in the library"a habit quickly learned by my teachers as they had no trouble finding me after the first two weeks of school. After the third consecutive time my mother was called to the school, I was grounded. No video games, no computer, no TV. Fortunately for me, I preferred reading to gaming and watching TV.


At the age of sixteen, I had read all of the books in the school and public library, and my mother’s personal library"save that red volume that was hidden with the butterscotch candies. And since my trouble making went from twelve groundings a year to three, I was able to convince my mother to take me to the book store in town. What was interesting about this experience was that I bypassed all the books my classmates were reading. I went for Tennyson and Byron and Austen. We walked out of that store with 3 works of literature.


At nineteen, I was finishing up my first year of college"I was a Literature major. Just before finals week, I got a care package from my aunt. It consisted of six boxes of strawberry pop-tarts, beef-jerky, a stress ball, a pack of socks, and a brown box the size of my Shakespeare textbook. I took the box out of the package and used a pair of neon green scissors to cut the tape on the mysterious gift. I cried when I opened it. The box consisted of the red volume that was normally hidden at the top of my Mother’s book case and a pack of butterscotch candies. When I flipped the cover open, written in my mother’s flowing script, the title read To My Darling Daughter.

© 2015 Breezy


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Featured Review

This is a sweet, touching story. Sometime way back in the first half of the last century, there was a rambunctious, curious little boy that climbed on things, got in trouble and liked literature. How nice it is that your mother loves you so. (Just as it should be)

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Critique: (Though I didn’t get my tan hided) two "d's" in hidden.
(Mother waited until I could see strait) "strait is a narrow passage of water connecting two large bodies of water" you want straight.
(take me to the book store) bookstore is one word.
( Mother’s book case and a pack of butterscotch) bookcase is one word.

Review: It is touching and has a sentimental feel you like to share with another, you did a good job of conveying emotion of a real nature. Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of enjoying your work :~)



Posted 8 Years Ago


This is a sweet, touching story. Sometime way back in the first half of the last century, there was a rambunctious, curious little boy that climbed on things, got in trouble and liked literature. How nice it is that your mother loves you so. (Just as it should be)

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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310 Views
2 Reviews
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Added on October 29, 2015
Last Updated on November 2, 2015
Tags: mother, books, candy, growing up

Author

Breezy
Breezy

TN



About
I'm a small town country girl who loves a good ghost story every now and again. I love to read and write stories in my free time. I hope to travel the world someday and write about that experience. more..

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