#621 Staying up past your bedtime when you were a kid

Nobody likes bedtimes.

Nope, nothing’s worse than lying under the covers in hot, flannel PJs with wide, unblinking eyes while the late autumn sun slowly droops outside your window. As the sky fades to a burning orange the streetlights flicker on, the moon pops out, and eventually the thin crack of light under your door flicks to black.

And then you just lie there, staring at the ceiling, flipping your pillow, tossing and turning, aching and burning.

Nobody likes bedtimes.

Come on, whether it’s mom chasing a giggling, diaper-clad junior around the coffee table or dad forcibly finger-peeling Xbox remotes out of pre-teen paws, it’s all the same when you’re a kid. The fun stops when the head drops.

Yes, bedtime is the secret, locked gateway to a magical mystery tour of late night television, dark downtown scenes, and unknown journeys into all things strange, exotic, and sinful.

But it’s that buildup and curiosity that makes it great when you finally do break on through to the other side.

Do you remember birthday sleepovers where everybody drank Cokes after 9pm and watched R-rated movies? Did you have faraway little league tournaments where parents cracked beer coolers after the game while kids terrorized the hotel whirlpool and sauna? Did you celebrate New Year’s with cousins all shaking hips and eating chips as the next year hit?

Staying up past your bedtime when you’re a kid is like getting on a rickety roller-coaster and riding it down a dark tunnel heading somewhere you’ve never been and were always told not to go. But then you find sugar rushes, skinny dips, heart-to-hearts, and non-stop giggles all waiting for you deep in the blackness, just around the bend.

AWESOME!

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#622 When the dog’s really excited you’re back home

Greasy forehead, sore ankles, and a dull headache cap your traffic-jammy ride home from a long day at work. Dragging yourself to the door your stomach rumbles and grumbles as you picture the bland frozen burrito you’re gonna nuke for dinner.

Yeah, the day got you down, the day knocked you out, but suddenly you unlock the door and your mood zooms sky-high as there’s a loving and waiting BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK.

Someone’s happy to see you.

AWESOME!

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#623 The sound of snow crunching under your boots

Dim streetlights cast blurry shadows for your cold walk home.

Snow-packed mitts, floppy wool hat, and a drippy, sniffly nose cover your shuddery frame as you shuffle down empty side streets on your way to the cozy warmth of your waiting bed. Everything is an eerily pitch-perfect silence buried under a shadowy sheet of bright white. Pine trees sway softly, Christmas lights flicker, and the biting air ice-scrapes your frost-nipped nose.

Somehow the solid crunch of your winter boots against the packed road snow fills the night with a relaxing and familiar sound that marks tiny little progress towards cuddling up under warm blankets and falling deep asleep.

Like cracking frozen puddles, pushing soft drink lid buttons, or popping a spoon in a jar of peanut butter, the sound of snow crunching under your salty winter boots scratches a primal itch that just feels so satisfying.

So stuff your hands in your pockets, curl your head to your chest, and crunch loud and crunch proud deep into the dark, winter night.

AWESOME!

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