Magic

It seems like home is never how you imagine it. My parents house represents all the characteristics of my youth. When I visit somehow I expect my carefree, independant days to return, somehow they elude me, but they do not elude my children.

I remember when I used to visit my grandparents house as a child. Though we were never allowed to step foot in the formal living room, or the dining room for that matter, and we always had to wear socks (it took me a while to figure that one out) it was a magical place with a large cardboard box that grandpa would haul out of the basement full of strange toys like an old wooden spaghetti spoon (the one that looks like a wooden hair brush) Thats the one that sticks out in my mind, don't ask me why, but that cardboard box was a delight every time. Grandpa's toys were better than anything we could imagine, and then night would come and we would have to put the toys away and go sleep in grandmas sewing room with our sleeping bags all lined up in a row. Nights were my favorite time at Grandma's house. We would play games like I spy. "I spy something white" was always the kicker, since EVERYTHING in that room was white, and we would choose something silly like the little plastic part that hangs on the end of the blind strings. Then we would sneak very carefully out of the room, down the hall to the stairs. We would stick our heads through the railings and try to see what the grownups were doing. Then when we thought we might have been detected we would scurry just like mice back to our sleeping bags and pretend to sleep. Some of us would pretend to snore, although I'm not sure we knew whether we really snored while we slept or not. Ah yes, the magic of grandma's house.

Now my children get to enjoy that same magic.

Yes, that is my twenty year old brother playing micro-machines with my two year old.

My grandpa had a hip replacement a couple years ago, yet he still managed to get down on the hard tile floor and play ball with Jeremiah. Everything was going well until jeremiah decided to run and jump on him... don't worry, both parties survived un-injured.

You know how my brother Aron is going to be known as the cool uncle who plays with the nephews? Well, meet Uncle Todd. about 16 years younger than my dad, he still lived at home in the early years when we would visit that magical house. He was the COOL UNCLE. Now he's the cool great uncle. :)

I told you - MAGICAL Flashlights.

Still Magical.