The grassy knoll was smooth like velvet. Our preschool class prepped for the celebratory “roll to the bottom”; fifteen bodies, head to toe, with one hair-raising goal in mind. When countdown commenced, it was evident I had prepared, wearing my freshly creased Toughskins. Go! With reptilian prowess, I rolled off the crest, spinning past worthy opponents. The freshness of the cut grass, screams from classmates, and the invigorating sensation of rolling across steaming dog feces piqued my admiration for this sport. Memories are locked of younger me being hosed off in the classroom sink with victory embedded in my corduroys.
Theodore Wallbanger massages keys in order to drum up smiles for a universe that is slowly losing its connection to its own inner child smile. Instagram: @theodorewallbanger X: @sangriabeard