Whenever I think about those days I was just a little kiddo and my kindergarten, school friends, and days I when I loved lollipops... memories come and fall down my cheeks.
"Childhood is like being drunk. Everyone remembers what you did except you."...
My dad was always the one who used to take me to kindergarten. One time during winter, the road was covered in fog. Nothing was visible. But still somehow we managed and we both arrived just in time - I made it to the assembly at school, and my dad made it to work.
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I remember it like it was yesterday.
We used to go to see my grandmother's huge amount of plantation out in the country. We'd travel out there on a cycle with an extra seat, pedalling real quick. Grandma would feed us on a gallon of milk and home-made bread (sometimes, toast with huge amount of butter...). I did not like it at all, and did not want to throw it because of the love that she made it with, so we put it in containers so it would stay good and unknowingly it eventually rotted. We ate freshly harvested honey from granny's farm with bread and the taste was unforgettable.
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For me, childhood memories are all made up of recollections of tasty food. I had this sandwich made up of two cookies and just some nutella between them. Now that's the taste of childhood!
