Souvenirs

I just got back from a delightful vacation where I was inundated with hugs and kids who wanted to sit by me and general adorableness, and all week long I have been missing my little monkeys and my super hugger and everyone else.

Anyway, on this trip I took a book to read out loud with the nieces and nephews. This has become a tradition over the years, even though we usually don't finish the book. (We did make it pretty far this time). And the book, a paperback which was hauled in and out of vehicles and tents and bags and survived a downpour in one of those nylon drawstring bags for hauling things to the gym, is a little worse for wear. But that wear and tear is now a souvenir of the trip.

Every time I pull out that book I'm going to remember the rain at the Amusement Park, and how we ran into the nearest store to get out of it, and the store's floor was flooded, and half of us were outside under the eave, and that group decided to run and find a better place, but then came back, and since I was wearing Tevas and non-denim shorts, I decided to go find out where they were and help them find a dry place (they were all under the age of 10, so I didn't exactly want to leave them hanging out on their own), and meandered through the rain to check out options, and then brought them into the store with the rest of the group, which at least only had water on the floor and not pouring on our heads, and that one of my sweet little nieces said, "Maybe we can help them clean up the water in the store". And I'll remember how before the rain, we'd gone on Thunder Canyon three times because every time we got done, the Super Hugger's eyes lit up and he shouted, "AGAIN!!!" and how can you say no to that? And that after that ride, we went to the animal pen and they had the cutest little goats and a kangaroo and then I went on my first real roller coaster and we stopped off to do one more ride before meeting up with everyone and we were just starting to dry off and of course that is when the rain started.

I'll also remember the long drive across Illinois, when my niece and nephews and I were playing Gubs across three benches of seats while I listened to my other two nieces read the book.

And I'll remember how hilarious Duncan is, and how Niece 5, who always had the headphones on in the car, actually took them off and listened. And then I'll remember all the other things about traveling in the car, like playing balloon volleyball and taking pictures, and climbing in and out over coolers and stuff.

And maybe someday, I'll pass that book on to one of those nieces and nephews, and they will have their own memories to go with it. So now the book is more than just the story on the pages, because it is a piece of my story, and even though the memories don't center on the book, the book was there and has all this history it didn't have before. So, apart from the great literature, it's also the best kind of souvenir.