The Magical Times

Childhood is, for some, a succession of magical times. I remember the moment I discovered the boiling point. I was standing on my tiptoes in the kitchen next to my mother. I was watching the water about to boil. The first tiny bubbles. Increasingly numerous. I was amazed by this miracle of water transitioning from a liquid state to a gaseous state. My mother awaited this moment to throw in the chopped vegetables.