tufts of childhood

Summer never fails to remind me of my own childhood, especially as I watch my brother and sister grow up. Lacey starts 7th grade come August and Gavin will be a hyper little 5th grader. It's amusing, to say the least, remembering how I used to do things, how I spent my summers, and how very different I am from my siblings, I who grew up in Orlando twelve some years ago.

I thought, as I am in this reminiscent mode, that I would share some of my own childhood/young adolescent memories with you on this gorgeous summer day. Here goes:

• Slurping orange juice out of freshly picked oranges behind the woods that sat in front of my house.
• Riding my first roller coaster at nine or ten with Aaron and practically having a heart attack while waiting in line, because surely I was about to die. Twice.
• Pretending to be asleep on Sunday mornings when my mom would come to wake me up for church and then giving in, sourly, and making my way out of bed.
• Sharing my first kiss on a dare, in a hot tub, with my next door neighbor.
• Shutting the front door on the first boy who ever asked me out, Kenny - who was two years older than me at the time, who wore square glasses, who smelled like freshly chopped wood.
• Crying in the car on the way to the grocery store when my mom decided to tell me she was pregnant, again, with my brother.
• Watching my friend Jordan puke every time he smelled dog poop. Specifically, watching him puke in the grass and knowing that I would never mix ketchup and macaroni and cheese, ever again.
• Thinking about how creepy the mouse band at Chuck E. Cheese is and getting lost in the tubes just so I wouldn't have to watch them play.
• Vacationing in Sedona, Arizona and seeing a Kokopelli for the first time.
• Realizing just how cruel girls (and boys) can be when you wear pigtails and braces in eighth grade.
• Going to Disney so often that I knew every nook and cranny of all four parks. My second home.
• Playing basketball in my driveway while Shaggy played on the boombox from the garage.
• Laying on my back in my fort on the hottest days of summer with a book in one hand and a notebook in the other.

I watch Lacey and Gavin grow up and I wonder what they will remember at 22, what they will deem important enough to recall at a moment's notice, what they will take away as good times. I wonder if their experiences will be anything like mine, or if childhood is not really as universal as we think.

From the mouth of my (nine year old) brother:

Mama and I are having an intelligent conversation in the bathroom. While doing so, she shows me her left foot, which is bruised and swollen.

Enter Gavin, who says, "Ew Mom. Your foot is as gross as Aeriale's sunburn."

Before I can open my mouth to give a snarky reply, Gavin smirks and says, "Simile, Aeriale, simile!" and promptly climbs up the stairs. Singing. About gross things.

My brother is going to be a literary freak someday if he can sit still for two seconds. I just know it.