Notes on being a child

I remember being a small child. I remember the adult sized medium purple and yellow Laker's jacket my mother bought for me at Sears. It was like wearing a full body suit. I would play on the swings at my elementary school, with the zipper pulled up to my nose and the hood strapped down gripping my shaggy brown hair. I pretended to be flying like my dad.
I moved away when I was half way through the third grade. I loved a girl named Katie. She was awesome. I was a very quiet child and never had any gull to speak to her. Then two years passed and I came back to visit my elementary school. I came back to see those swings, to see the rocket I would scale, and to see Katie. The rocket seemed much less grandiose, the swings seemed less like slingshots into the atmosphere, and Katie seemed much more plain.
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