I love to linger at antique markets. Sometimes I'll stumble on a thing that looks familiar... and a little girl emerges recalling the way it was back then...
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Six brown lunch bags lined the refrigerators top shelf and I searched for my name then hurried out the door, bag in hand. Sometimes the bus came early and I didn't want to miss it. I could hear Mom yell at the others telling them they better hurry or they'd miss the bus.
I was hungry already, and couldn't wait to indulge in the tuna sandwich made with soft Stroehman's bread and the fresh chocolate chip cupcakes (two of them) waiting inside the bag.
Morning lasted forever, but finally we were lined up in the cloak room to wash our hands. There was a small basin in there, and hand soap in a dispenser just above.
There was nothing that smelled sweeter than the clean smell of that hand soap. It meant that lunchtime had arrived, and my growling stomach would be put to rest.
