Days Inn

The Days Inn Hotel.

A vacation to remember.

Pineapple printed purple dress.

Freshly chewed gum stuck to the front of my outfit.

Hair up in a messy bun.

Super round sunnies.

Right hand grasping my mom’s left.

Blurting out messages of greeting to strangers passing.

Colorful scribbles on newspaper.


Lists everywhere.

Lists of mini projects, lists of what time to call my best friend on the telephone.

Lists of my best friends in case I forget them.

Doodles of people.

Doodles of me wearing flared jeans and a ribbed tee.

Doodles of my friends ice skating at the rink down the street.

Doodles of my dog sitting on our flannel couch.

Hours running.

Running around the swing set.

Hours of daring friends to jump off the swing set.

Grandma’s house and Grandma’s conversations.

Telling her about the crush of the week and his cool shoes.

Things not adding up.

Light up shoes.

Skinned knees.

Lemonade stands.

Bunchy socks.

Games of Twister.

Memories of being a shorter, sparkly-eyed human.


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