My bed is too big and I keep sleeping late. When I wake up I feel all disoriented because I don’t hear yelling and running. There’s not much to be said for having an entire house to yourself. I could have shared a bunk bed with Sammy forever and I would have been happy.
I have no one to take shopping. Rob doesn’t talk through the movie and argue with me about how much popcorn he’s allowed to eat. There are no fights at the dinner table to mediate. There isn’t anyone outside my window playing basketball, swimming, or beeping horns on motorscooters. There are no kids running up to my room with their soda bottle caps, excited because they won me some free iTunes.
I don’t even have anything exciting or funny to write about. Mr. Turtle isn’t exactly the next Fabio.
There are no palm trees here, and there is no 80s station on the radio. I left my passionfruit iced tea bags in Vegas, and I miss my little cousins.
