Christmas–I’m nothing but a big kid on Christmas morning. I’ve never grown out of it and probably never will.
Getting packages in the mail–I act like a little kid whenever I receive something in the mail, especially if I’m not expecting it. Then there’s the bubblewrap, but that goes without saying.
Walking in the rain–Reminds me of stomping in mud puddles in a summer rainstorm as a kid.
Getting in silly fights with my brother and sister always makes me instantly revert to childhood. Nothing like being scolded by your mother for getting too rowdy at the ripe old age of 30.
Spring! Whenever the snow finally goes away and that beautiful warm breeze comes back – I feel the same urge to run hard and fast into it that I did when I was eight.
Jim Reeves. It may sound weird but growing up my mother always listened to Jim Reeves. Now whenever I hear him or if I’m feeling down it always reminds me of that time.
My first impulse was to say water skiing, but I didn’t learn to waterski as a “kid”. I was a teenager.
I’m not a terribly giddy person, but I do get giddy over giving a gift I know someone will enjoy. It doesn’t have to be a big gift, just something I know will be appreciated. I feel like a little kid waiting for my mother to open the two dollar eau de toilette or clown figurine. That I just know she’ll love because I earned the money and bought it myself as a surprise. (I was wrong about how much she’d like them, but I remember the giddy anticipating feeling.)
Since it’s been warm enough to do so (April for sure, maybe even March) I’ve been sleeping in our porch swing every night. The screen keeps the bugs out and I feel secure enough that I’ve been getting good sleep.
There have been nights when the light rain or the breeze or the moon or some night sounds (things I would miss indoors) have caused me to spend more than just a few moments traveling back to childhood.
There’s one particular effect that I would go back to and stay, it’s so mesmerizing. It’s a moonlit night with a light breeze and the feeling is almost otherwordly it’s so calming. I’ve been in that situation only a few times, but it’s one of the most beckoning scenes in my memory. Nothing special happened in the scene, but just the idea of being in that mood forever is what makes me wonder if there’s something like a “place of rest” for each of us that we want to return to.
Playing in the rain and splashing in the puddles. I still do that at every opportunity.
Watching Star Wars. I remember how my brother and I used to play, and I always had to be R2-D2 because I was too short to be Leia, and I had red hair–Leia didn’t have red hair, and therefore I wasn’t allowed to be her. Not even when I stuck the cinnamon rolls on my headband and put it back on.
Bubbles. I love bubbles. I’m suddenly eight again.
Seeing my brother. He’s 32, I’m 27, and he still makes sure I never leave a gathering without one big bruise. Unfortunately, I discovered that telling Mom he hit me doesn’t work anymore.
Joking with my best friend, swapping insults and fart jokes.
Giving my sister a dead arm, then ducking and running when she tells Mom
Ice cream.
All of the above make me feel like I’m twelve again, when the world was simpler and brighter and not so scary. I really have no right to be this nostalgic, I’m only 27 for goodnes sake!
For me it’s watching cartoons and going to the park to play on the swings, the merry-go-round, etc., coloring with crayons, building Legos, and yes, Christmas morning. I still look forward to getting a lot of neat “toys” to play with.
The smell of Oil of Olay, which my mom used to use back in the dark ages before she discovered Clinique and their travel-friendly sample gift offers. (Mom travels a lot now.) She always used to put on a lot of Oil of Olay as the first step in dressing up for a party, which either meant we were having a bunch of grownups over (I liked that – they usually thought I was precocious and paid attention to me) or that we were having a babysitter (we had good ones, and we might get to eat Spaghettios).
Hearing the songs from Schoolhouse Rock! Conjunction Junction, What’s Your Function? I’m Only a Bill, up on Capitol Hill…
In a bad way (i.e., reminds me of teenagerhood):
the smell of Oxy 10. The smell itself is kind of pleasant, but not the associations… at all. Shudder.
