Apple Juice

One of the earliest memories of my life is getting a mug out of the cupboard when I was four years old, and bringing it carefully to the kitchen table, where I poured it full of apple juice. Then, steadying my mug (now this is a BIG DEAL) with both hands, I made my way down the stairs to the calm, cool basement, where only a little sunlight could make its way into the room, but just enough so I could see. I don't even remember why I was there. But I do remember sitting at the table all alone in the house (my mom was napping), listening to the quiet hum of the refrigerator and holding my mug with ONE HAND and feeling like a grown-up, slowly sipping the apple juice and thinking to myself "This is what grown-ups do..." and thinking to myself that I would make sure to remember this forever and ever.

I'm thirsty now.