I think I was wearing a nightgown. My hair was down and a scramble of messy half-curls. When I was little I had ringlet-type curls over my head, something I’ve always been proud of in a weird way. They straightened out around the time I was 4 (as far as I can determine by pictures), but those first few years of curly-cued perfection was when my hair peaked. I’m unsure why my parents were in the dining room, and I was still asleep (as a parent now myself I know it must have been either extremely early or I wasn’t feeling myself), but I walked down the hallway from my bedroom to where my parents sat at the dining room table. Our chairs had wicker backs on them. I think we had a decent amount of wicker furniture (unless I’m remember things incorrectly? Or just picturing patio furniture?).
I told my parents, “I have polka dots,” and everyone looked down at my arms to the tiny little red circles all over them. Chicken pox. I obviously didn’t know it was a mild case at the time, but when my sister got them BAD (on Christmas!) a few years later, I remember my mom being worried I would get them again. I don’t remember itching or even what happened afterward, but I remember being so very scared of the spots covering my body. If only I could have known of my future obsession with leopard print, maybe I would have embraced them.