This evening was quite delightful, I must say.
After an afternoon of working in the Ag building wood shop, my friends and I took a little trip to Sulphur Springs to see Alice in Wonderland.
Grand movie.
But while everyone else is sitting there wondering what it would be like to have those 3-D glasses on their face and a handful of psychedelic drugs in their hand, I think about how much I love my father.
If you know me well, you probably know that I am a very sentimental person.
I enjoy thinking about the past.
I come by it honestly though.
Daddy is often reminiscent and I love when we drive and he tells me about when he was young.
Story time kids...
When I was little I remember refusing to sleep.
It was not something I enjoyed doing.
To this day I would rather stay up and do stuff than go to bed.
But I remember laying in bed for several nights in a row as my father read Alice in Wonderland to me.
I would fall asleep while he read, catch myself, and try and wake up again.
But he would always pick up where he left off the next night.
He even read Through The Looking Glass to me.
Amongst several occasions, that is one of the highest ranking memories I cherish about my childhood, and about my father.
At the same time, my mother would read The Velveteen Rabbit to me.
Over and over and over again.
It never got old.
She would cry, and I would love her.
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There's just something about rabbits.
