Childhood favorites

When I moved out after high school, like most kids who move out, was asked to pack up my bedroom and throw away anything I didn’t want. Boxes full of childhood and high school memories, yearbooks, sports awards, clothing, souvenirs from unforgettable trips, hundreds and hundreds of pictures was boxed up. Everything that meant so much stayed stored away in my parents garage for years. My boxes moved from my childhood home on Denvale Circle to my parents next home for less then two years on Almelo. Then when my parents decided to move to Arizona the summer after I got married, my boxes officially became “my boxes”. My parents took a trip out to Utah before their big move and brought me all my things that meant so much to me. Since then, those piles of boxes have dwindled down to two. One still full of wonderful memories, the other with my childhood babies, dolls and blankets.

I can remember playing with each one of those dolls that I kept. I can picture, strapping in the twin dolls, one wearing pink, the other blue, just like my sister and I, into their mini plastic stroller, the birth certificate that goes along with Margaret Edna, my first Cabbage Patch that dons the name of my mother, the little fawn I was given by my Aunt Karen when I was born, and the beautifully red and yellow crocheted clothes and bonnet that my Grandma Cobb made for one of my first baby dolls.

I have dreamed one day of getting these out of storage where they lie in a zipped-up old plastic bag that a quilt of mine was once purchased in, and down for a little girl of my own to play with.

So far, no little girls of my own.

Austin had his own version of “my boxes”. He has hundreds, probably thousands of baseball cards out in our garage. He has just as many comic books out there too. And let’s not forget, every single letter he received on his mission. Why? I asked the same question. I finally convinced him that he didn't need all the letters.

As we were digging through box after box, I ran across the one thing he had kept for a little boy of his own to play with one day. I collected them all, gave them a quick clean, and put them in a safe spot for a few months. At the time they were too little to have out with Wyatt beginning to crawl and putting everything in his mouth.

Just the other day Dax found them in my safe spot. He pulled them out, and the magic worked on him just as Austin had said it did on him for hours throughout the day back in the 80’s. They were his very own, original Micro Machines.

Who would have thought that these tiny cars would be so much more fun to play with than the normal sized ones? Who would have guessed that Austin can still recite the fast talking commercial ending with, "If it doesn't say Micro machines, it's not the real thing". And who would have guessed that the two of them can still be little kids when playing with them? I love it!

What childhood favorites do you still have around your house that your kids love playing with??