We’ve spent a lot of time on this trip discussing “what our children will remember.” Goldie – well, nothing, obviously, but I still like to imagine that the things she’s seeing and learning and doing during these weeks will ripple into her future.
The question of Indy’s memories is a more complicated one. He’s three and a half, almost four – I remember parts of my life from that period, but they’re flashes: letting an ice pop drip into a garbage can in the playground, peeling sunburned skin from my babysitter’s arm, a skinned knee, seeing my nursery school teacher walking down the street one day.
So I wonder: what will he remember? Will he remember getting to eat Cheetos? Only being allowed to buy one toy in the souvenir shop? Will he remember feeling nervous about not knowing what the place we’re going to sleep in tonight looks like yet, or will he remember feeling excited about that not-knowing?
Mostly, I don’t know what he’ll remember.
But I have a feeling he’ll remember this.
On Me: Frye Boots.
