The best idea I ever had popped up in my head many many years ago. It was on a Saturday afternoon when I was 10 years old and playing with my best friend, Arlene. My father had brought the two of us to see our new house in Baie d'Urfe in Montreal.
We ran around the empty rooms. which echoed our giggling excitement. To our amazement, we discovered the house had a laundry shoot. A modern wonder! From the top floor down into the basement there was a metal shaft to throw dirty laundry down.
While my father was off somewhere taking measurements of the rooms, Arlene and I were left to play on our own. We were fascinated with the laundry shoot. We'd throw our winter jackets down from the top floor, run downstairs, pick them up in the basement, run upstairs and start all over again.
Eventually, I wondered whether it wouldn't be more fun to go down the shoot ourselves. Like the tv series "the flying nun". After some planning, I decided to leave our jackets at the bottom of the shoot to cushion our fall. I thought it would be best to go head first so we could see where we were going.
As I was holding Arlene by her dangling knees, and asking her if she was ready, my father entered the room. I heard a deep intake of breath in the stillness. He spoke ever so quietly and said to me, "Do Not Move."
(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)
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