Visions From My Childhood

You know how sometimes you remember something SO VIVIDLY that it's etched in your brain forever?

Well, one of mine was hiding in my coat cubby at preschool. I'd run up the stairs after my mom dropped me off, rush to the window overlooking the parking lot and wave at my mom as she drove off. She'd have her arm out the window, waving back at me, rain or shine or lighting or snow. I would cry. Then I would run to my cubby and sit there sucking my thumb.

I'm fairly certain all of that happened but here is where it gets fuzzy. In MY version, I did that every single day for the entire year, which I'm fairly certain did NOT happen. Also, I remember thinking that my mom went home and watched soaps and ate bon-bons, which DEFINITELY did not happen.

So fast forward to the present. Grandmommy was talking to Jack this weekend about starting the new school on Monday. And what did he tell her? That he would sit in the corner all day sucking his thumb.

Maybe he doesn't think there are cubbies.