The other night while cleaning the kitchen with my youngest siblings I broke a clean mason jar. Go figure that I would be the one to do it, and not either one of them.
For those of you that have never broken such a thing, let me just go ahead and inform you that they don't make them from shatterproof glass. I swept the floor for a few minutes, and to my irritation there were far too many shards to pick up by hand. I finally broke down and got the vacuum cleaner. I don't want people cutting their feet because of my clumsiness, you know?
Now, summertime is in full swing, and so is that summer weather. Naturally, I was wearing a pair of shorts. So here I am, running the vacuum by my side when I suddenly felt a rush of warm air from the machine.
My mind immediately traveled back to when I was just a little thing, standing next to the vacuum while Mum was using it (it should be duly noted that it was a much older vacuum and looks nothing like the one we have now) so that I could warm my feet. It was, to me, one of the most pleasant sources of warmth one could possibly ask for. I can still smell the scent of the hot vacuum bag that used to flood my nostrils. I probably impeded on Mum's progress a lot, as a put my feet and hands on the vacuum cleaner.
When I came back to awareness of the kitchen, the warm gust grazing my leg, I wondered why I was so enraptured with remembering such a simple occurrence.
I wonder sometimes if that over time, the reminders of my childhood will thin out. I certainly hadn't looked at an activated vacuum cleaner and thought about warming my toes. What if that's the case with a lot of things?
Do I even need to remember my childhood all that much?
Perhaps not.
I'll be out for the next couple of days. I'm going for a dive.
Comments (2)
lolz, my old Hoover vac started giving off some funky smell whenever it was on *_*
i've always found it interesting the things that can cause memories to come back so clearly. especially those that were seemingly insignificant.