That feeling when you turn on an album you haven’t listened to in a while and realize you first got hooked on it when you were three years younger than your elder kid is now.
As it turns out, when I can’t remember anything useful, my brain is still storing a ton of lyrics to Frank Sinatra songs that I listened to repeatedly when I was ten but haven’t listened to for possibly a decade or two.
My hands really don’t like typing the word “cardboard.” At first they just kept jumbling it up (caordbard, carbdoarb) but now they’re flat out throwing in random Ws (cawrdboard, cardboward) when I force my fingers to face their word nemesis.