I was making a hot dog for my daughter, when I turned and looked at this bag with one hot dog bun left in it. It brought back a wave of nostalgia that I haven’t experienced in a while. It reminded me of backyard parties and picnics at the local parks with opened pop cans overturned on the table and half eaten hamburgers and potato chips left on a plate. I remembered my uncle cooking over an open flame charcoal pit with a beer can close by (for seasoning *wink wink*), playing volleyball with a net that had missing strings, kids running around tossing water balloons and screaming loud enough to “raise the dead” my mom would say; bees flying over head and ants crawling on the table looking for an uneaten morsel of food. Wow. Good times.
But it was just a hot dog bag.