Toys R Us

I was driving to Starbucks by the mall the other day. You know, the one with the confusing parking lot that has the exit I miss every single time. I glanced out of the window and saw the old boarded up building that used to be your favorite Toys R Us.

I remembered taking you there each week so you could spend your allowance on a new $10 or under treasure. We would stroll through the aisles . . . taking our time to explore all the options. We would eventually find the toy that you liked best. You would proudly hand the cashier your money, excited for your new found adventure.

Sometimes we would drive across the parking lot to get a a root beer float afterward. You didn’t drink coffee back then. We would spend the day enjoying each other’s company. Laughing and making up stories about people and places we saw on the way home.

I think about how proud I am of the man you are now. How you amaze me with your creativity and fearlessness. Chasing your dreams on your own in the big city. Searching for your next treasure.

Sometimes I wish we could go back just for a day. When you were still “Mattie” and I was still “Mommy” on any given Saturday.