Remember childhood?

 

Lazy summer days and warm nights sitting on the porch? I remember sun-tea in my grandparent's back yard and losing small toys in the pool filter. Digging in the dirt with sticks, because I liked being dirty.

I remember going to the drive-in with cousins and my favourite aunt. Motorcycle rides with my grandfather, and walking to the market with my dad for salami and mustard. I remember my toy room, full of barbies; and telling my baby cousin stories in the middle of the night when we were supposed to be sleeping.

I remember nap-time in Catholic school and a library shaped like a dome. I remember my third grade teacher - Mr. Wakefield-Evans, who used to share his croissants with me.

I remember these things like they happened to someone else. When did I get so grown-up and unhappy with life?