Ten.

Ten. The age of double digits. The age of new discoveries. The age on the peak of growing up. Well, sort of. We felt so old, yet we were so young. We still had so much to discover, and to be honest, we still do. We felt as if we could conquer the world. Our plastic shields and sword battles, our pillow and blanket forts, and our cardboard box houses full of dreams allowed us to imagine and create our reality. As our heads hit the pillow at night, our eyes shut immediately, not waiting for our minds to stop, but allowing them to lead us as we dreamed of sugar plum fairies, knights in shining armor, spaceships, adventures, and princesses. In the mornings, our little bodies would bolt down the stairs, as the smells of breakfast awaited us. We were in the age of cops and robbers. The age of pirates and indians. Those were the days where happiness was found in the bottom of a cereal box, and sadness was found from a scrape on your knee. Christmas involved Santa, Easter had the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy still left money under your head while you slept. Boys still had cooties, tag was the game of the block, and the dream of being a ballerina was still on the table. Simplicity was at its finest. Heads were held high. Dreams were held higher, and there wasn’t a care in the world. Look at us now. My how times have changed.

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