21 years, and I'm still back in the same room, the same white furniture with the same chipped golden handles.
I have a terrible knack for reminiscing when I'm home for breaks. I think of Christmas mornings. Attempting to fall asleep with my stomach dancing, anticipating a new sled, popcorn, singing happy birthday to Jesus over breakfast cinnamon rolls.
Biking with the neighbors singing the Monkees in the light of the lingering sunsets falling on our cul-de-sac.
Puppet shows with my little brother that inevitably ended in fighting.
Running barefoot around the lawn, my biggest concern stepping on thorns from our juniper trees.
I think the reason alot of people have kids is so that they can live vicariously through their kids' adventures. I have become more and more intrigued by the idea of adoption, especially if I end up being single. Too many kids are growing up with memories plagued by abuse and loneliness instead of Christmas presents and summer days accompanied by song tracks.
♥
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