Well, THAT week flew by

It is amazing, how fast our weeks can go, when every day seems like forever. Time doesn't change, but our perception does, as we grow older.
My own life seems like the blink of an eye. I remember being a small child. My earliest memory is sitting in a car seat, with the window down and my hair blowing. Another child, not related, sat next to me. My mother, before I was 2, used to drive a car pool for a nearby nursery school. It is a snippet, but so vivid.
I wonder what my children will remember, when they are grown. Will they remember the time they spilled nail polish, and got in trouble? When their mother lost her cool? Maybe the year the hurricane came, and we had to sleep in the basement. Perhaps instead they will  remember the countless nature walks we took, drives to nowhere, and dancing in the rain? The day kittens were born in our basement, or when their sibling learned to roll over, and we all cheered.
Whatever their memories, good, bad or ugly, I hope the smell of broth cooking on the back burner brings them back, to a moment that passed, at least for them, a lot more slowly. When being a child, and playing, was their job.