….Doesn’t seem to be anyone around…
I’ve been shut away into the boys room because hubs has a very important project that requires him to do some voice recording work and supposedly my typing and the dog doing whatever it is he does, is being picked up on the microphone. Since I don’t have a T.V. in my bedroom, I’m resorted to hanging out in Gameboy’s room.
My dog is freaking out as to why we’re in here and giving me looks of What the heck? Let’s get out of here. Obviously this is not his and I’s normal hang out. At the same time I feel comforted with the boy’s things scattered everywhere-Pokemon cards, light sabres and swords, a favorite stuffed animal that got left behind. I could totally see why empty Nester’s leave their kids rooms the same as they left it. Sitting here reminds me of my own childhood bedroom
My bedroom..er I mean the bedroom that was mine in my parents house, is still almost exactly how I left it the day I got married 10 years ago. When I go in there, I feel like I never left and that it’s still “my room” though technically now it’s the boys room. No there’s not any New Kids posters on the wall. They were like so Junior High. I believe all of my high school awards and photos are hanging on the walls. My desk still has old notes from boys and forever friends in the same tattered shoe box, and old college books that I couldn’t cash in. If you really start digging around you could probably find my walk-man and a cassette tape of Tiffany in it or maybe even my small.. yet broad and odd CD collection. Please don’t ask, as it really is embarrassing what was contained in my collection.
The best treasure of all in that room, is my giant cedar chest, which holds everything from old tap and jazz shoes from my dance days. (Remind me to tell you a nightmare story of a dance recital I had. Yes L you know the one) to old stuffed animals, and even my wedding dress is tucked safely away in that old chest.
I love to open it and take a big wiff of that dusy cedary smell and take a look around searching for forgotten memories that hold stories yet to be told.