If you missed the last post, you can catch up here.
Year three was a little lighter-hearted. Well, it was much lighter, actually – this year was fun.
I’d like to compare my memories of year 3 to that of a browned-out 19-year-old, in that I only have like two. Please forgive the brevity of my descriptions of these first few years.
My main recollection is with Tyler and my siblings. It was bright outside and everything was green. This day, we were in the park, though I don’t remember if it was only to play, or if there was a picnic involved as well. All I know is that Tyler had brought a bed-sheet and we were taking turns lying on it as he dragged us all around the open field. We were laughing and falling all over ourselves, really just having the time of our lives.
I guess next would be playing in the snow with Tyler and my little sister, Carrie. We were living in an apartment in central Illinois, and it had snowed quite a bit. Tyler dug out a little tunnel that led to a bigger area we could squeeze into, or as you intellectuals might call it, an igloo. I remember being surprisingly warm in there and throwing snowballs up at our other siblings who were watching from the window. When I think back on this, I always imagine they were in trouble, because surprisingly, they weren’t perfect like me.