The Bare Necessities~

Spending the weekend at home is always a chance for me to excavate certain artifacts of my childhood. This particular evening, I set about to unearth the long neglected assortment of Disney videocassette tapes from my childhood years. As I knelt down beside the basket in which these movies have sat for years, as I handled the familiar boxes and revisited the colorful depictions that grace their weathered and dated covers, I was flooded with memories of years gone by.

In many ways it feels like a lifetime ago but the memories are becoming more distinct these days and I can now recall a time when, clad in a little flowered nightgown I scrambled frantically on my hands and knees, overflowing with enthusiasm and anticipatory bliss, across the Oriental rug and towards the base of an enormous Christmas tree. Fondling each gift, I searched for the ones I wanted most and knew I would get, checking each package until I felt the familiar contour that instantly betrayed the contents. In that moment, breathing a sigh of relief, assured that my hopes would not be disappointed, that Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, or whatever classic that particular year yielded, would be mine. The same system was easily applied to the process of ascertaining which gifts held beneath their brightly papered exteriors, the latest Barbie doll, whose addition to my already abundant arsenal of Mattel branded maidens would surely make for the opening up of new worlds of play.

Oftentimes, when I was particularly lucky that is, the areas of Disney and Barbie would intersect, and I would find myself the proud owner of the highly coveted, Sleeping Beauty Barbie, a lovely rendition of Princess Aurora whose eyelids would magically shut, to be opened only by the application of warm water. Sadly, and for some reason that remains a mystery to this day, the princess’s eyes become permanently affixed in their closed position and no amount of warmth could pry them open from eternal slumber. Perhaps she really did need a prince.

So often do I yearn to return to those years of my childhood, to once again don my flowered nightgowns, be tucked into bed and read to, to lose my teeth, beg to bring lunchables to school in place of left over lasagna, to watch Disney movies and scurry off afterwards to dress myself up as Princess Jasmine, to shamelessly await Christmas day, and to blatantly check each present before its time to be opened had arrived. I am not disillusioned enough to think that the past was as idyllic as I often portray it to have been. But it certainly is fun to remember it as such.