Time Travel

I just ate midnight cereal. It's my ritual during late homework nights. I started the ritual in high school. Tonight, as I sat at our water-stained kitchen table eating frosted minis, I felt sixteen again. I had later homework nights then than I do now. Explain that.

I'm sitting cross-legged on the orange couch now. I'm not tired, but I'm going to go to bed soon.

My arms are tired though from swimming laps during swim class today. We had to blow bubbles in the water then turn our head to the side to take breath. No looking up, only to the side. It time-warped me straight back to the McClintock High School pool and swim lessons with snotty-nosed kids and kick boards. My mom sitting on the side of the pool crocheting the edge around a baby blanket. I dreaded putting my face in the water but did so without complaint because I didn't want to be the wimpy kid. Today, it was a pleasure. I didn't even have to pretend that I liked it. I daresay blowing bubbles was therapeutic. After awhile, the formality of "teaching breathing" was done and we had free time to swim as we wished.

Free time. I liked that. I liked when my teacher said that today. Those two words took me back to my elementary computer lab. After typing drills, we had free time. I wonder what I did during computer free time in third grade. I don't remember. I was never really into Oregon Trail.

Tonight, during computer free time on the orange couch, I wrote a letter.

Dear Thursday,

I can't wait to wake up to you. If you bring freshly-picked pears for breakfast, I won't complain. The tree is in the backyard. Goodnight now-- even though I'm not tired. See you in the morning.

Love,
Laura