I went to the public library with my kindergarten class. 

And then I made my Mom bring me, and I showed her the back door, and toured her all around the children’s section and told her all about all the books and reminded her to be quiet. And she let me, and acted like she had no idea the back door existed, or that she had ever been in the library before. Because I have the best Mom ever. 

And I always wanted to check out cooking books. And she always let me. Even though I never read them. 

And I really never appreciated how awesome my childhood was, until I became an adult. And it was all because of my Mom. And now I rarely have time to see her. 

And I hate that.