Nostalgic description of childhood mischief

I remember a time where everything around me was grand, and everything that I came across was new and exciting. The newly polished floorboards at my gran's house was an ice rink to me, a perfect place on which to practice my sock skating. Her large, two poster bed would be my own trampoline, which I contended to bounce up and down, trying to reach that elusive ceiling light that had so much dust on …

…seeing the magic in as simple a thing as polished floorboards? But then it must be good that the as we grow older, we become more cautious and less foolhardy. I am never sure, a sadness always seem to creep into me when I tell a child off for getting their clothes dirty, as I know that I have become the adult and I will never see that magical world that of a child's again.