My earliest memory
This is surprisingly and easy on for me and a story I enjoy remembering.
When I was born my family lived in the Bronx. When I was 4 we moved upstate. I must've fallen asleep on the car ride. When we arrived at our new home, my dad wrapped me in a blanket, carried me up the stairs to my new room... and left me on the naked floor. When I woke up I was in a strange room with black and white checkerboard pattern on the floor so naturally what do I do? Cry. I was just laying on top of my white blanket with the animals and letters on it crying until my dad came back upstairs and got me.
I don't really know why I like that memory but I do. Maybe because I'm a daddy's girl and my parents still live in that house so I grew up in it for... my whole life.
No comments:
Post a Comment