When I was a little kid, seven or eight, I remember my days being full of adventure and exploring the deep woods that surrounded my house. In these woods there were ponds, and a little beaver dam hidden within. Some days I could just get lost in the pathless woods for hours while letting my imagination go wild.
When the day drew to an end, I remember looking forward to bed time. So after dinner, I would head on up to my room, get into my pajamas, brush my teeth (with blueberry flavored toothpaste) and wait for mom to come in. When mom would come in we would sit in this kind of old rocking chair (some nights she would have on silk pants were I would slip off and both would get a good laugh) where we would read story books for about an hour.
When it was time for me to lay down she would pick this story book called “Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel” Now this is a book I know she read to me a good 40 times in a month’s time period. I loved this book though. Every time she was done, I remember thinking to myself ‘I’m going to have a steam shovel like Mike’s one day’ little did I know, steam shovels are not a living thing, but hey, I was a little kid and we all think of things like that when we are little youngsters.
Fourteen years later, I still have this book and love the memories it has with it. Every time I open it to just look through, it takes me back to those nights with mom and reading for that one hour I looked forward to each night. Memories like this from my childhood, I cherish the most.