I remember being a kid. I remember some of things that seemed so great and some of the things that seemed so bad. Those things were so great. Those things were so bad. They were. I remember.
A friend tearing up fallen Rose of Sharon blooms in my yard. I shrieked. They kept on and smirked. That was so bad. It was.
Getting a Barbie camper van for Christmas. That was so good. I said to my parents, “Santa Claus must be real because you’d never get me such a big gift.” They smiled.
Miss Harris, my first grade teacher. She was so sweet. I still remember her dark hair and her few dark freckles, her brown jumper dresses. She was nice.
I remember many little things about being a kid.