Dear Diary

Most of the journals I kept during my youth, I have a strong desire to burn. I thought I had them all under lock and key, but recently, I found another journal in my parent's attic. I was 8 at the time, and somehow the excerpts aren't as painful to read as my middle school journal (probably the absence of crazy hormones?). In fact, it is pretty insightful into the mind of a child. Most of the entries are pretty dull- mainly recording the schedule of my day. But there are a few gems of emotional expression. Here's one of my favorites, dated November 30th. The subject is my grandpa, who would frequently babysit us:

"Dear Diary,
today went I got home from school my grandpa messed up everything[.] [F]irst when I got something folded up and put into a bag my grandpa recked it up. Then he recked one of my activity scenes up and was not! minding his own business.
Well bye-bye"

Wouldn't it be interesting to go back in time and see how these events really unfolded? My Grandpa was certainly not a monster roaming the house, leaving mass destruction in his wake. In fact, I suspect he was getting after me to clean up, and I suspect I wasn't obeying. But isn't my perspective interesting? It has made me wonder how my little one thinks of me as I attempt to maintain order in our home.

I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a monster roaming the house, leaving mass destruction in my wake.