My brown eyes shone in the sunshine as I drove my Barbie Jeep down the sidewalk.   I had no adulting, “I need coffee” cares in the world.   It was just 6-year-old me and the open, yet narrow pavement.   My only care, “Was my Barbie Jeep charged so I could cruise Minnesota Street?”   I loved my Power Wheels.   Even though, I was only six at the time, I felt powerful.   I felt like I could conquer anything in my pink plastic wheels.   “Plastic? No, not plastic,” my imaginative mind thought.   It was made of sparkly steel that could master the Silver Lake Sand Dunes.   “Vroom!” Up and over I went!   I drove and drove into the Roseville sunset.   After hours of traveling, I would finally park my Barbie Jeep next to the porch.   My blonde ringlets loosened when I got out.   I made sure to plug it in so it would be fully powered for the next day.   Yellowstone was next on my pretend map, but my Barbie Jeep needed to charge.   Just like my Power Wheels, we need to be filled with the po

  “Joseph! Jump in the pool! The water isn’t cold!”, I yelled at my brother.  When we would go camping as kids, the pool was the main event at any campground we resided at.  We nestled our fifth wheel into a shaded oak spot.  As soon as the RV was settled and organized, my brother and I would throw on our bathing suits.  It’s as if we used magic to put them on…poof!  We were ready to become scuba divers in the Caribbean.  We’d run to the crystal blue pool as towels flew behind us like Superman and Supergirl capes.  I was always the first to jump in the pool.  I would touch the water with my foot a couple times.  I’d skim the water with my hand.  Then…splash!  I became a mermaid with an iridescent pink tail.  I’d put my goggles on and dive under the water to explore Atlantis.  Like me, my brother would touch the water to see if the temperature was to his liking.  He was timid and did not jump with faith.  He would pace back and forth over the hot concrete.  After about fifteen minute