Last night I found myself repeating something from my childhood, something I hadn't said out loud in a long time. It was one of those instances when you don't think about something for a really long time, but it's still present in your subconscious so that when something triggers it, the memory surprises you, and surfaces just like it happened yesterday.
I told my husband last night that I was going to retire to the bedroom by myself for a 15 minute bread basket. A what? A bread basket. 15 minutes. I was instantly back at our house in Sterling, CT. It was bedtime for my brother, sister and I. Of course we hated having to go to bed, but we listened to the rules and headed upstairs to change, brush our teeth and get ready for a kiss goodnight. My mom had started allowing us some extra "awake" time before bed on special occasions. Man did we feel like we were smart kids, using our conniving ways to get mom to extend our bedtime. Usually it happened when we behaved ourselves. She called it a Bread Basket. If we were rewarded a Bread Basket, we got to keep our light on in our room, and read while in bed. A Bread Basket could last anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes. Upstairs, teeth brushed, pj's on, under the sheets, book in hand. Wow, was mom a smart woman or what? What we thought was a huge treat at the end of the night and an extension of the dreaded bed time involved us improving our minds, relaxing the brain and engaging the imagination. And because it was so special, fun and highly anticipated, the three of us would never think to not follow the Bread Basket rules. If that's not a win-win situation for mom, I don't know what is. My only hope is that someday if I have kids, they will enjoy Bread Baskets as much as I did, and still do. Comments are closed.
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About Me:I'm Kim. I like to work hard but not enough to stop having fun and enjoying life. I hope I never stop learning and exploring. Other people inspire me to be and do better every day. Read on for reflections on work and play. Categories
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