I miss my childhood.
I miss my Mum making me sausages and waffles for lunch. I miss my
Nan babysitting me and tickling my back to get me to sleep. I miss playing with the dolls round her house. I miss the excitement of ‘Santa’. I miss falling asleep on my Mum’s lap at family parties. I miss being rewarded for losing a tooth. I miss falling asleep with my Dad on the beach. I miss playing ‘don’t come on my bed’ with my Dad and Brother. I miss running around my Nan and Grandad’s garden in my knickers. I miss dancing on my parent’s bed to Santana and Will Smith. I miss collecting conkers over . I miss lying on the kitchen work tops watching CBBC after a day at school. I miss the meter on the wall in our old kitchen by Rowenta and being fascinated by how much it looked like my Mum’s name. I miss riding on my Dad’s shoulders. I miss being real close with my brother. I miss being able to get up really late because I didn’t have hair or make-up to do. I miss Shirley Hughes books. I miss running out of school to see my Mum waiting in the playground. I miss walking around my Auntie’s old bedroom and thinking about how similar it was to the bedroom in The Parent Trap. I miss weekends away to Hylands Park Yorkshire. I miss paddling in streams and collecting stones. I miss my Mum and Dad carrying me up to bed. I miss pretending my dolls cot was an express train and piling all my teddies in for a ride.