My mom has called me Toodles ever since I can remember. Well, she also calls me other names to include my middle name when she is disappointed in me. Fortunately, Toodles is when she seems to be okay and at peace with me. As an adult, the name now takes me to the comforting places in my mind when I was a child. There were several safe destinations. I was Toodles in these places.

One place was my room where I would sing for hours while the records played. I dreamed of being a famous singer one day. The fifty seven stuffed animals on my bed acting as an audience were my biggest fans. I sang for hours until I heard Mom calling, "Toodles, time for dinner".

Believe it or not, I found great comfort at my mom and step dad's work place. They owned a tire company. I would sneak out into the back warehouse and climb up stacks of tires then make my way down to the bottom of a stack. I would zone out as I sat in the bottom of at least twenty five stacked tires among the strong smell of rubber. I exported myself from my worries for what seemed to be hours until mom would come try and guess which stack I was in. "Toodles, I know you're in here", her voice smiled as she hunted.

Another safe haven was the back yard of my play friend across the street. This was Peter's house. We would sneak out into the field behind his house where it was heavily wooded. There, we chattered on and on about all of the concerns that fell common on a five year mind. Then when dinner time came and his mom called him in, we would sort of fade off into this silent daze. Peter would go into his house and I would return to mine to hear Mom greet me, "Hey there Toodles!" In fact, she said it just the same today when I called her on the phone.

It is often though that I forget to be a kid inside as I go along with my day to day adult routines. From time to time, I am randomly reminded of youthful memories through the eyes of my own child. Yet, it is here on this flat space where my adult side can escape and be Toodles when I please.