Looking back, some of the happiest moments of my childhood were spent with my arm in packets of breakfast cereal, rootling around for a free gift.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
One of my clearest, happiest memories is of myself at fourteen, sitting up in bed, being handed a large glass of warm buttermilk by my mother because I had a sore throat, and she saying how envious she was that I was reading 'The Catcher in the Rye' for the first time.
I'm a cereal girl. I have always loved my cereal ever since I was a kid.
When I was a little girl, I remember carrying my orange UNICEF carton with me as I went Trick-or-Treating.
As a child, I remember I always wanted to make my parents happy and give them everything in their lives.
It was a real hand-to-mouth existence in those early days - I'd have whatever dry cereal there was in the house for breakfast, 30 cents to spend on lunch and a hot dog for dinner. I did that for years. So there was definitely a hunger in me, of various kinds, to succeed.
I had a happy childhood.
I romanticized domesticity for a while, and loved having a shopping list of groceries stuck to the fridge for the first time.
The happiest moments of my childhood were when my toys broke, because then I could destroy them with impunity.
My happiest memory of childhood was my first birthday in reform school. This teacher took an interest in me. In fact, he gave me the first birthday presents I ever got: a box of Cracker Jacks and a can of ABC shoe polish.
I was given baby doll toys myself, and they proved a stark reminder that my life was expected to revolve around childbearing - just as my mom's had before me, and her mom's had before her.