someone needs to invent a big mechanical device that we could check out of the library. with the gadget comes a round luminescent calendar dial and a great big crank, topped off with a hand-stitched leather knob.
what would i do? set the dial to, oh let’s say 1997. then grab that knob and pull it with gusto.
time travel, my life is spinning in wacky light speed and one day, just one day, to tiptoe back into just one yesterday, as i don’t want to be greedy. but what a day that would be.
three robust, cherubic little children, cuddled all up on the couch with me, blankets tucking in everyone like mexi-melts, a big salty bowl of fresh popcorn, the vhs machine humming and ready to go as i press the clicker to ‘play’, and then, magically, if only for two silly simple hours, we’d watch “old yeller”, in a time-capsuled winter afternoon.