I wrote this in the middle of cleaning today. A well deserved break, I would have to say.
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A couple of minutes ago, I was thinking I held what remains of my childhood there in my slightly clammy, very dusty hand. I was holding a sock puppet. Crudely constructed out of an old sock, rice (yeah, I'm Asian. WHAT.) and some tape and string, I had christened this creature 'Gallop' and given him to my sister one Christmas long ago. The realization that I was actually holding uncooked rice that was over a decade old convinced me to throw out this particular piece of childhood. Thus 'Gallop' joined the multitudes of other miscellaneous old objects (collectively called CRAP) that I couldn't find the heart to let go of at one point or another in my life, but have since realized as useless and...rather old.
Admittedly, I write this now with stuffed animals surrounding me, all destined for my new Santa Clara home instead of Goodwill. (Those Goodwill-bound critters are in an unfriendly and suffocating garbage bag. Seven-year-old me would have shrieked with indignation and horror.) Yeah I haven't seen these guys since I last moved in 2003, but they're still the same friends I cherished when I was just a kid. Only now they smell like cardboard box. Fun how reality interferes with sentimental ponderings, isn't it?
Among the jungle of animals, I also found a set of Disney books. I spent some time flipping through it, admiring the pictures and not paying a second of attention to the words. As a child I would have read every single letter on every single page, until I'd finish the book. Then I'd set it down with pride in my accomplishment and move on to pick up the next book. Now I just look at pictures? Am I backwards or what.
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Four days. So am I ready? No. I wasn't even ready to throw out a freaking 10 year old, rice-filled sock for crying out loud. But I'll get there.
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