“Too many memories.” I thought. “I wish I only remembered being a girl up until this age.”
“Do you want me to paint your nails tomorrow, Jessica?” my mom asked me.
“Yes mommy.” She sat me down and told me to go to bed. Before I fell asleep, I remembered a question. “Mommy?” I asked, as I lay in my bed. “How are babies made?”
My mom laughed and I couldn’t figure out why. “You’ll learn when your older.” She said, then left my room, closing the door just enough to allow a ray of light to illuminate my bed.