Home to me are the days when I can’t even tell you the date when memories happen. It was just a normal day at home. A normal day within my favorite season. It was late in the fall. I come home from school and the smell of harvest is in the air. I throw my backpack down and it crushes into a pile of leaves. I glance around …show more content…
From the time my mom and dad said that my sister and I could finally walk & ride our bikes up to grandpas. We were like two little girls on Christmas morning. I still smile when I see the picture of our family of four rounding the corner on the old paved road to his house. I see grandpa sitting on his porch, taking that picture, wind chimes making noise in back. A noise that will forever remind me of him. Nothing compares to the family bonding done there. “Taco dip is here!!!”, Emily exclaims! A signature dip at every Klein gathering. After all of us cousins got our bellies full on the delicious taco dip, gooey caramel corn and the countless glasses of slush; we headed down stairs. Grandpa’s basement was always the cool cousins spot. Whether we had Aunt Debbie pull out the old leather couch and continued to use it as our boat or played in the spare bedroom. Not to mention the extra fridge was down there, so we had easy access to sneak extra juice bags or pop. This particular Christmas one of my cousins just received the latest Kidz Bop CD. Me, my sister, and two of my cousins go into the spare bedroom and we eagerly put the CD into the CD player. “Guys, watch me!’, Katie brags. She quickly leaps up onto the spare bed and starts jumping up and down to the beat of the music. It takes less than a minute for us three to join in! Not too long after we started someone gets the idea to turn off the lights. On. …show more content…
My mom peeks into our bedroom. Two little girls are fast asleep in a twin sized bed. The lips of a three year old shaping into a perfect little o. Pacifier tightly grasped by the 5 month old. She blinks. “Girls! It’s time to eat!”, she exclaims. This time she peers into the same bedroom. The same girls sit on the ragged and roughed-up pink carpet. This time one is five and one is three. Laughter escapes the bedroom as I entertain my sister by placing clifford stickers all over my body. She blinks. The two littles are spinning around in the living room. She gasps. An ear-piercing cry comes from the living room. She whips her head towards the sound. A stream of red flows from a deep gash in my forehead. Turns out Mom was right when she yelled, “Stop spinning, you could hit your head on the entertainment center.” Mom quickly grabs a towel. “Macy, hold this on your cut, okay?”, she says concerned. She rapidly dials my dad 's number. He answers thinking it is the call saying supper’s ready. Next thing you know he’s speeding down the lane in the combine. A stuffed white little mouse with a pink nose sits in my hand. Four stitches later and we’re on our way back home. She blinks. We try to hide our smiles. Dad is snapping a photo of us as we get off of the yellow, heat-trapped, smelly school bus. Gravel is being tossed by our feet as we skip our way up the lane. Small Gap flowered book bags cling to our backs. Smiles spread across a 2nd graders and a