Feels like it was just two seconds ago when I used to listen to “Caterpillar Girl” by the Cure. Now it’s all about The Very Hungry Caterpillar in my house. I have not had children so long that I don’t remember life before. This current existence is the one that seems like a hallucination, but I’m told at some point, this will switch.

There are other things I remember. The ice cream truck that trolls playgrounds plays the exact same song as the trucks from my childhood. At this point, First Son announces “ice cream truck” whenever it swings by and I just encourage him to sing along to that theme song with me, and say “Thank you for the beautiful song, ice cream truck! Bye-bye!” I don’t know how long I can get away with this.

When I was home from college, my friend Alex and I searched high and low for summer jobs. We went to several interview together, including one for a bartending training workshop, throughout which I couldn’t stop giggling. Most likely, Alex said something that made me crack up, and I was still just barely out of my teens, so I was just easily a mess. Another gig we also tried to get was ice cream truck driver. I was out early on on that pursuit, on account of my terrifying driving skills, but Alex actually did one route in a mildly dangerous neighborhood, since routes like the ones through our hometown were hotly pursued and won well before we were like, embryos.

That is all.

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