Recently my dad asked if I would like to have my train set from when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Is that even a question?
Of course I wanted it. I have lots of memories of laying in front on the train watching it go round and round. And derailments…I had a thing for crashes.
Call me nostalgic, but I wanted this train under our tree bad. Which explains why even after he told me about the severe water damage and that it might not even run I just smiled and said, “Oh it is totally fine…I love water damage”.
Do you feel my senti-mental-ness yet?
When my pops finally dropped my piece’o childhood off I realized it wasn’t as shiny as I remembered. It was in pretty bad shape.
Tim saw how my eyes twinkled when I reminisced about my little girl memories.
So he did something crazy.
He pulled every nail out to remove the old-as-me track, striped the board, sanded, sealed, recovered, glued down cork, cleaned the track, nailed a million little holes into a new track, built a bridge, bought a building, and generally got our train in tip-top shape. What a guy.
He brought my childhood back to life…cue the tears.
We decided on a new little tradition too. We are going to buy a building for our “train town” every year. This year we bought a train station, because we can’t have our townspeople just jumping on moving trains you know. We write the year and a little note on the building so when we are old and senile we can reminisce on the labors of our little town.
I can’t believe the train that I played with as a baby is now up and running and terrorizing our dogs. Need proof…here it is.