As I sit here at my desk this morning, looking at my checkbook and a stack of bills, it occurs to me that I just don't want to adult today. I would much rather go back to when I was about 8 years old.
If it were summertime, the 8 year old me would be playing a game of Jacks with my best friend. Or maybe Hopscotch on the sidewalk. Or I might be found hiding among the branches of the crab apple tree reading a Nancy Drew Mystery or a Bobsey Twins book, with the added pleasure of having some of the best tasting crab apples on the planet within easy reach.
Or I might be found knee deep in the creek, sailing pieces of wood and pretending they were boats sailing off to distant exotic lands. Or maybe at the lake practicing my swimming strokes.
If it were wintertime, there were snowmen to be built, complete with coal for eyes and a carrot nose. Or the building snow forts where epic snowball battles raged.
If I were at my Grandma's house, there would be sledding with my cousins down the hill in the cow pasture, made all the more exciting by having to dodge the large rocks and tree stumps.
But the best part of winter was ice skating. There was the outdoor ice rink down by the elementary school where an 8 year old girl could practice to be an Olympic champion. Those hopes were dashed with the realization that I probably would never skate backwards without falling down.
Then there was the small ice covered lake near Grandma's house where Dad had skated as a young boy. He told me of skating on a very windy day. He opened the front of his coat and held the fronts out like airplane wings. The wind caught his 'wings' and propelled him across the lake. Having tried that myself, I learned he was right when he said the ride across was fun, but skating back against the wind was a bugger.
So here I am. Bills and checkbook in front of me. I am not 8 years old any more. If I want a roof over my head I suppose I had better write that rent check and if I want my life to continue without bill collectors bothering me, I expect I had better be the adult and take care of business.
But oh, the memories. They are sweet.
Monday Memes And Memories
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