A lot of my vivid childhood memories involve my dad and sisters. One of my favorites though, is when we decided we wanted a tire swing. My dad is the landlord of an apartment complex down the street from my house. By the dumpster, there were big tires that were probably from a truck. My older sisters and I ran down to that dumpster and chose our favorite tire to roll up the ally to our house. My dad made us hose it off and clean it with soap. Once we were done, my dad hung it from our tree with a yellow nylon rope. We would take turns pushing each other on it, but we would always fight about whose turn it was to be on the swing. So, one night, we had the brilliant idea to all get on the swing (the swing was absolutely not big enough for this). My oldest sister Morgan sat on top of the tire, and my other older sister Cassie sat on the top as well, and they were facing each other, pretty much only holding on to the rope at stay on. My younger sister Kiara and I sat in the center of the tire the same way they were facing each other. We wrapped our legs around the person across from us to keep ourselves on the swing, except when we had to push off the tree. This worked for a bit until we started to hear a snapping noise. My parents sat on our deck watching us. A bit later, we heard an extra loud snap and suddenly, we were falling from the tree. All four of us are scattered around the ground in pain, and mourning for our broken tire swing. We were devastated. If only we had taken turns, our swing would not be broken, and we would not all be in agony from the pain due to falling out of the tree. This event of course, lead to a different argument, of who was the one that caused the swing to break. We stood in our yard screaming at each other until our parents yelled at us to make us stop. After that, we never were allowed to get another tire swing.