I’m working on the attachment part, hoping I can keep it from becoming some kind of asceticism. Though, you know, sometimes that option looks pretty attractive. :)

In 2nd grade it was the new digital watch I got from my aunt for being the ringbearer in her wedding. Thing had a mirrored finished that when held right could be used as a spy tool to look around corners or see where the teacher was in class in the back of the room.

In high school it was that sweet knife. Double edged and serated. Black widow spider on it. Killer sheath. I’d throw that thing at my dart board in my room. I was deadly with it. (Or so I though.) Although my mom didn’t appreciate the damage done to my closet wall when I would miss. I still remember the kick-in-the-gut feeling I would have when I would misplace that thing.

But alas, I’ve gotten older and less attached to things. Not that I don’t like things. Just less attached.