I was waiting in line for food at a deli in OKC last spring. A few feet away, I noticed a sweet striped-polo-clad little guy preparing his Guess Who? board for battle. It was a practice I knew well. I myself was once a Guess Who? champion, ready to shoot my carefully-planned facial-feature-related questions at anyone willing to play against me. I couldn't help but snap a photo of him and his laser focus.
His mom sat down across from him. The two started to play, and oh man, did the nostalgia hit hard. I have such special memories of playing the same game with my own mom. I kept taking pictures as the Guess Who? emotional roller coaster painted itself across that kiddo's face. (I feel the pain, bud. I do.)
It all made me with I had more photos of the everyday sort of moments growing up, because honestly those were the most precious. I'm grateful for the pictures of birthday parties and trips to Disney World, but the memories that are most precious to me are the ones that happened in less glamorous times.
Listening to my mom read American Girl books to me. Laying on a trampoline with my best friends, looking at stars. Reading the notes my dad left on the counter before he drove to work. Catching frogs with the neighborhood gang in the pond across the street. Playing cards with my Papa in the living room, and building basement blanket forts with my brothers.
Don't get me wrong, trips to Disney World are awesome, but sometimes the most magical place on earth is wherever you are right now.
When the boy and his mom finished their game, I walked over and introduced myself. We exchanged emails for picture sharing and I offered to take one last photo of the two of them. They happily obliged. (The last couple photos in this post. So freakin' adorable!) We chatted for a bit and went our separate ways.
I ordered my food and left with a lovely reminder to cherish the moments in between the milestones. And even to photograph them from time to time.