Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Once Apon A Time

From time to time my kids ask me questions about what life was like when I was little.

Things like: How many TVs did you have and did they have color?

Even though I graduated high school in the mid-90's I swear, my kids think I graduated with Abraham Lincoln.

Of course I can't say I blame them. I recall my mom showing me her class ring and lettermen's sweater. I handled them as if they were artifacts. Stories my parents told us of their childhood seems 100 years old and yet my mom was just 25 when I was born.

My mom used to take us to visit my Great Grandma. I am sure she was a great woman, but in my 5 year old perspective, it was hot, boring and smelled funny. She and my mom would make small talk and I would wonder how many more hooooouuuurs we were going to stay there, while in reality, I doubt our visits were any longer than 30 minutes or so.

It amazes me how the concept of time changes as you get older.

Not too long ago I took Anna and Ella for a walk. We popped by my grandma's house. I thought she might like to see Ella and visit for a bit. It was a lovely time. We chit chatted about what's going on with my family, how big the kids are getting and how my Grandma was doing. As I sat there I looked over at Anna. She was a good sport, but I know what she was thinking, "It's hot. I'm bored. How many more hours are we going to stay?"

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