About Me

My photo
We have lived in Romania for 16 years now. We have 6 kids. The top photo of our family is the day we met the twins, just before their 4th birthday. We were granted custody of them on their 5th birthday.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Bragging

Zach had to write a three-dimensional piece. He received an A+++ (By the way, I don't grade his papers, his Aunt Wanda who is a high school English teacher grades them.) I may be a bit biased but I'd say this is a really good three-dimensional realism paper describing our house!!

   As I open the age-old door leading to my home, a sense of security and contentment washes over me. As warmth slaps me in the face, I am met by the tantalizing redolence of freshly baked cookies which floats through the air and as it lingers around me, I can taste the melting chocolate already on my tongue. The counters are littered with supplies that have been prepared for the coterminous meal. The cupboards' delicious snacks have been ransacked, but the vegetable area has been mercifully left untouched.

   Pushing open a squat, run-down door to my right, I come across a friendly room. This room has seen visitors from all corners of the globe. An experienced armchair rests elegantly in one corner, overseeing a carpeted sitting area, complete with a large, blue couch. A scarred table stands off to the side, surrounded by ligneous chairs. Three doors regally guard their dominions, one is behind me, one is in the near corner, leading to a restroom, and the other is in the center of the opposite wall.

   The tall, time-honored, and ugly door swings open to reveal an energetic room. Raucous children spring from beds, crawl under chairs, and laugh. The laughter is contagious, as is the vivacity. In this lively place, the furniture struggles to keep up. They have survived many days with countless wrestling matches, races, and ball games. The television has been crammed into a corner to the left of the door I had just entered. A room divider splits up a small couch and a table, patiently waiting in front of the television, and the rest of the room. Along the walls are three large shelves, of various sizes. The largest of the three is situated alongside the television, in the front half of the room. The other is much smaller, sitting in a corner along the wall in between the two divided rooms. The third is the smallest, and happily holds its supply of children's books in the farthest point of the room.

   Two very old doors are on the right wall. The nearest one leads to a restroom, and past that a smaller-scale version of the room I was just in. This one is pink, filled with dolls, tea sets, and books. The farthest door leads to a suffocated room. Books, notebooks, computers, pencils, paper, and other items have buried the room. Four desks stretch across the room, and an eccentric and curious staircase piles upward. This staircase is nothing more than a large, cement block, with rickety, shaky, and winding steps lead up.

   Traveling up the stairs, I enter a cluttered office space. An L-shaped desk takes up space in one corner, with books, paper, commentaries, a printer, copier, laptop, and monitor clog up the space on the desk. The adjoining room has no doorway to separate itself from the office, rather a shorter section of wall caves in and allows me to enter a cozy bedroom. a large bed demands my attention, at its two sides are two tables. One table is filled with magazines, yarn, and knitting material. The other contains candy wrappers and bowls from last night's snack.

   As I make my way back to the office, I see two familiar doors. The nearest one leads to a bathroom. The farther one enters into a short hallway with a bookshelf overfilled with books, and at the right yet another door.

   As I reach the end of the short hall, I turn left and see a very long hallway. This one extends much farther. It is so covered in boxes I can hardly walk. Boxes of clothes, boxes of shoes, boxes of books, boxes of toys, boxes of old gadgets. Wilted flowers, fans, boards, dress shirts, plastic, and many other outmoded objects have taken refuge in this dreary hallway.

   After I have taken in the hallway, I enter the door by the bookshelf. A small, cozy room introduces itself. Shelves laden with books and clothes take up all the wall space, as well as an ugly wooden desk and a bunk bed. This room may seem messy and ugly to most, but to me, this room is home. This is where I am content and happy.