Misty Water-Colored Meeeeeemories

Having an enormous attic on top of the enormous House at the Corner of Drainage Street and Halfway Down the Hill is both a bane and a blessing. Because we have a gazillion square feet or so of storage space, we have felt no obligation to get rid of the stuff that accumulates during several decades of family-hood, and that's great. But this has caused more than a few moments of anxiety during channel-surfing as I found myself thinking, "Hey! Is that show being taped in our attic?" and realized I was watching the latest episode of Hoarders.

With an influx of college Boys on their way home with the transitional stuff that accompanies changes of semester and academic year, Husband and I decided we needed to spend some quality time together in the attic editing the accumulation.

It was a trip down memory lane, with every new box a new surprise. There were pictures of our little Boys with their little school friends and their adorable haircuts. (And would these have been helpful to have while I was frantically trying to put together high school graduation displays? Oh, yes, they would have been quite helpful.)

There were worksheets from when Boy#1 was just learning to spell:

Awwww!

There were instructions their grandmother wrote out for playing Mexican Dominoes, the game the Boys loved to play when their grandparents visited.

There were reminders that the Boys weren't the only ones who changed through the years, although in some cases the changes were less progress and more train-wreck:

And last, but certainly not least, there was my sons' favorite photo of a favorite uncle. This picture inspired more laughter among my pre-teen Boys than perhaps any photo ever taken, because really, what could be funnier than this?

I've edited the picture to save your eyes, but trust me, there is nothing in the world funnier to a boy than Uncle S.'s plumber's butt.

I think maybe mothers of girls have different memories of the way we were.