Here’s a quote that nails that  exciting as the thing you’re obsessed with when you’re eight years old.”
— Unknown
Perfect for the kid who loved rocks, dinosaurs, stickers, or that one specific blue sock they refused to take off. 😄

What’s a thing you were completely obsessed with as a kid?

Oh, let me tell you about my rock collection.

Not cute, sparkly gemstones. I’m talking regular driveway gravel.

I had a shoebox under my bed labeled “SPECIAL ROCKS” in wobbly marker. Every recess, I’d scour the playground for The One—a pebble with a quartz stripe, a weirdly smooth gray lump, anything slightly different. My friends played tag. I debated whether a chip in this sandstone looked like a dinosaur footprint (it didn’t).

The obsession got intense. I once smuggled a brick fragment home in my sock because it “felt historic.” I washed rocks in the bathroom sink until my mom found muddy water everywhere. I even gave them names: “Twinkly Boy,” “The Heavy One That Might Be Meteorite” (it was not a meteorite)

.

Why? No clue. Pure, unhinged joy. I’d line them up by texture, then color, then “vibes.” I’d narrate full interviews pretending each rock was a celebrity guest on a talk show. “Thank you, Granite Greg. Next up: a limestone who’s seen things.”

Eventually, the shoebox disappeared during a move. But every now and then, I spot a cool pebble on a sidewalk and feel that old zing. My inner 7-year-old screams, Pocket it!

So yeah. Rocks. What was your weird kid obsession? Please tell me I’m not the only one who tried to befriend a potato-shaped mineral. 😄