An aging memory

So I was watching the kiddos last night and we were in the middle of bedtime, when I suddenly saw something. There was a cow puppet in the floor. This was not just any cow, this was a cow that I remember from when Max was a baby. Not just baby baby, he was probably about 6 weeks old the first time I saw the cow.

It was the first time I babysat for him, he still had that new baby smell and everything. Anyway, back then I used to sleepover and then my parents would pick me up in the morning. So, the first morning after watching my sweet new baby cousin Max, I decided to entertain him while I waited for my parents.

I came across a cow puppet, and decided to put on a puppet show. The cow was a superhero named Super Steak, and his secret identity was Mr. Cow (not creative, I know). Super Steak saved all the stuffed animals from natural disasters, evil mastermind action figures, etc. Anyway, this was pretty frequent for the first couple of years, and the memories are precious.

You can imagine my surprise when I saw that puppet on the floor, almost 8 years later. I didn't know that they even still had that. In a split second, all my memories of those Sunday morning puppet show for the infant Max came rushing back. Before he could talk, or sit up, or even hold his own head up. My baby! I looked at the 7-yr-old sitting in his bed, covered in Batman sheets, with his missing teeth and adult teeth trying to come in. He was no longer the little baby that I had made up those stories for. So you can imagine my surprise when I told Max the history of that cow, and he immediately said, "Ok, pick up the story where you left off."

I laughed.

I couldn't even remember where we'd left off, I was 17 when I last made up a Mr. Cow story.

I can't believe how much memory was attached to just one little puppet.