She held the hourglass in her hand gingerly. She would have one day once she reached her destination to get what she needed to done. That wasn’t much time, especially for how difficult the task would be. Convincing herself to not do dance, but take up tumbling instead. Not just herself, her four year old self. As she was today she was a very stubborn person, but school somewhat mellowed her out. The four year old version would be one thousand times worse then trying to convince the logically stubborn twenty-seven year old of anything.
“Last chance, are you sure you want to do this?”
“When has my cover ever been enhanced by a pirouette? While on the other hand how many times has my combat trainer commented about gymnastics enhancing my fighting style.”
“He’s a crazy old man who has seen one to many movies.”
“Well, apparently, so have I.”
“See you when I climb out of the rabbit hole.”
The only thing I wish was different about my childhood is my memory of it. I do not remember much of my childhood. What I do remember of it though would not be traded or altered for anything. There is one day that my memory had been triggered by a home video. My family rewatches this one particular home video somewhat often and after the first viewing I found that other details from the day came back to me. We were outside playing with the cats and although it’s not on tape I remember playing in the back yard on a rocking horse with one of them. Probably the one my oldest sister was forced to give me (which is on the tape).
I don’t want to dictate what I’d do for my kids. I want them to have their own adventures, make their own mistakes, live their life. Like my parents let me do. I think that’s why I cant bring myself to regret or redo it. Although they guided me and of course either brought me to certain decisions or diverted me from others by telling me ‘no’ I still got to go on many Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles expeditions as I wanted. I can’t thank them enough for that nor deny that opportunity to my kids.