Ӎƴ ЇƝƨλȠȊȾƴ

What I Think At Night

Music boxes make me feel strange. But a good strange. Like when you're trying something new for the first time. But it doesn't make me feel like that. I can't really describe how it makes me feel.

But it makes me feel good.

It makes me remember the times when I would lay in bed and constantly rewind and rewind my music box teddy bear.

It plays "You Are My Sunshine" from inside the bear.

That bear has brought me to sleep so many times.

My grandfather gave it to me when I was one or two.

It's white, has matted fur and fading coloring, but I still have it, and I'm not giving it up any time soon.

It used to have yellow overalls with roses for buttons but I took them off, claiming that they, "Didn't look cool enough."

Hey, I was three. Leave me alone.

But yeah. I don't have the overalls any more.

The bear's name is Rosie. She still works too, even being 12-13 years old. She sits up on my shelf with my other stuffed animals I keep because of all the sentimental value.

I have a polar bear that I got when I was born. It's named Snowy. I don't know his I still remember all their names but I'm glad I do.

I also have a little wiener dog stuffed animal with those little beads in it for stuffing and with a plastic nose and eyes and a stitching mouth with the left side up so it isn't stitched down.

He's named Sparky. Not sure why.

Then I have a rabbit that has no ears from my carrying it around by its ears so much.

It has a dark blue t-shirt that says "BELGIUM RABBIT" on it.

It's from my uncle who was in the marine core, and sent it to me from Belgium.

I don't remember when I got that.

Then I have a bull dog animal that has a red bandana with the letters USMC over it in gold lettering.

It's from the same uncle who got me the rabbit.

I named and described all those without looking at them.

I remember having individual conversations about each one with my mom and brother when I was five or six.

But where was I?

Oh yes. Music boxes.

I listen to music boxes every night to go to sleep.

Tonight, accompanied with my music boxes, there is a large fan blowing downstairs to keep the house cool.

It hasn't ran for a while.

Since last Summer.

It is reminding me of the images of summer in my household.

Playful arguments with my father about me wearing a hoodie in eighty degree weather, lying in bed with only a flat sheet as a blanket with my sockless feet and short-clad legs and sleeveless arms sticking out with all the windows open while I try and sleep at ten o clock at night when it's still light out.

Swatting bugs endlessly, walking to the library and home and back several times a day, walking on the boardwalk to a gazebo where I sit and read all day with a bottle of water and my music.

Going on boat rides out to fish camp then playing in the sand and racing my dog and siblings while mom and dad prepare the caught fish for smiling and grill our hotdogs and burgers over an open fire pit for lunch and dinner.

Exploring the woods around fish camp, running through a cloud of bug dope that really isn't very effective.

Staying out late enough out there to see the brilliant view of the stars and Milky Way without the glare of city lights, sitting around the campfire between my uncle and father as they tell horrifying stories that my little sister can't hear and that I'm terrified of, but feel safe between the two men who are closest to me.

Holding a stick out of the boat with a little wooden toy boat on the end and watching it bounce everywhere.

Sitting outside while dad grills and I sit on the boat and read, pretending to be miserable even though I couldn't be happier.

Mom making potato salad ALL THE TIME!

Going barefoot and having inch-think callouses by winter.

Showing off and comparing various injuries and new scars to and with my brother.

Making forts out of spare pallets and wood we find in the yard, and just sitting in it trading Pokémon cards till we got bored and went down to the pipes and played in the water and had singing competitions and bottlecap races in the water and daring each other to jump across the stream.

Then going home and watching our shows with mom and dad and taking showers cos we "smell like sweat and outside" (quotes from my mother)

And taking the best showers of our lives, feeling so clean after being outside and sweaty.

And the water fights! Oh, the water gun fights.

And going out to the swimming hole in the sand dunes from the melted snow and swimming while dad set up the guns to shoot, then shooting ourselves for fun.

And playing makeshift baseball/soccer/football that really doesn't make any sense and capturing water beetles and keeping them in match boxes or empty water bottles then dumping them out in the middle of the road as a car approached and watched them all get smooshed.

And playing xbox with dad and whopping his butt at COD or Halo, and the smear rain and running from wherever we were in town to home, getting there soaking wet and bugging mom. Then taking another shower and sitting on the couch with a cup of tea, listening to the thunder and watching the lightning.

Then when and if the power went out we would light a ton of candles and read Narnia, sitting on the floor surrounded by and on blankets.

Then building blanket and pillow and sheet forts and reading comics with huge classes of chocolate milk and flashlights.

And the surprise ice cream runs dad would do after we all got home from fish camp while we were showering, then sitting around with all of us eating out of the gallon container while playing Life or Monopoly or Clue or something.

That is all my summer.

I miss summer.

I'm sick of winter.

But yes.

As I lay here in bed, it still winter outside, with my music box playing, the fan going at top speed and my dad snoring, I feel like I'm eight years old again in the middle of a hot, Alaskan summer.

And I'm loving it.