After learning at the age of 35 that a good portion of my childhood was somewhat of a lie (more on that … someday), day four of the 31 day March blog challenge, “What is your best childhood memory?,  was a little tough to answer.  But, when thinking about my childhood, my memories are my memories, regardless if I didn’t know the whole truth growing up.  So, with that, I respond to the challenge.

One of my fondest memories of my childhood is living down the street from my aunt and uncle, who were also my god-parents.  They had a son, my cousin, who was a few years younger than me and we spent a good portion of our childhood together.

My cousin and I would ride our bikes everyday, riding back and forth from his house to my house – less than a half mile separating the two houses.  While at his house I would play with “boy” toys like army men and cars.  We would climb trees and fences and play indians in the woods behind his house.  When my cousin came to my house we would play with my Barbies (he would always be “Ken”) and play house with my play kitchen.  We would swing on my swing set and sometimes go swimming in my pool.

Nearly everyday my cousin was at my house or I was at his house.  My aunt and uncle would greet me daily with open arms, welcoming me into their home as if I was their daughter.  When it was time to go home my aunt would walk to the end of her driveway and watch me ride my bike home to make sure I made it to my house safely.

As an adult I still look back at the time spent with my aunt, uncle and cousin quite fondly.  And, while we have grown apart over the years and my cousin and I have gone off and created families of my own, I will always have a special place in my  heart for the times we spent together, riding our bikes and being kids.  It was easily my best childhood memory.