When I was about 4 or 5 years old, still in kindergarten, the mid-90s offered a different kind of childhood. Televisions weren’t a 24/7 source of entertainment; they had time slots for different age groups, and Sunday mornings were reserved for cartoons. The rest of the week, I had school in the mornings, and afternoons were for napping—at least for the adults. I, however, was too full of energy to sleep during the day. While I sometimes dozed off, most afternoons required a lot of creativity to keep boredom at bay.
Playing with toys wasn’t enough, so I invented my own out of twigs and random objects from the yard. I would play with them until I either lost or forgot about them by the end of the day. But one of my favorite activities was spending time on a rubber tree in the front yard.
This tree, about 10 feet tall, had a dense spot where the main stem split into three or four branches, creating a perfect nook for me to sit or lie down in awkward but comfortable positions. On some days, I’d tie the ends of my blanket to make a hammock swing and spend hours watching clouds drift across the bright blue sky. Occasionally, I’d doze off, only to be startled by a garden lizard, a squirrel, or an elder catching me in the act. My clothes often got stained by raw rubber, but I didn’t care—those afternoons spent on that tree were worth every mark.