Saturday, July 24, 2010

Mead Foot

That was the name of the street we lived on in that ridiculously famous city. It is a British name. Mead Foot…

I thought it was Meat Foot. Well…I was only two when we lived there.

I can still remember the house.

There was a small entry that opened up directly into the living room. To your immediate left was a hallway that took you to three bedrooms. The first one on the left was our playroom. (This is where I told my first lie.)

The second one on the left was our bedroom. I shared a room with Maria. There was a lot of giggling. And after my parents would say good night and turn out the light, I would promptly get out of bed, climb the yellow shelves, turn on the light, and jump into Maria’s bed as quickly as I could.

And then my parents would come down the hallway, put me back in my bed, turn off the light and tell me to go to sleep. This was, of course, repeated several times a night. Eventually, I learned to just leave the light off. This way I could sleep with her and my parents wouldn’t know until the morning.

(I don’t think they minded.)

Back to the living room…

There was a piano on the wall next to the front door and two sofas. The sofas had huge red flowers on them. (I decided then that I didn’t like large floral patterned things.)

As you walked into the living room, the kitchen was to your right. We had an avocado green fridge. And there was only room enough for the kitchen table.
And that’s it. That was our house. One living area, three small bedrooms, and a kitchen only slightly bigger than your half bath. But it was gigantic to me.

And it was here where I learned how to lie, that the color red was going to cause problems, and that giggling was loads of fun.

2 comments:

Kendra said...

another good story, keep 'em coming please!

Jean said...

I love your writing style! It's fun getting to know more about you and the adventures that have molded you into the wonderful "you" you are today.