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Dress-Up Days
The cold basement is where my sister and I lived our lives. Every time we went to my grandma’s house, there was no doubt we would play dress-up. Once we pulled into the driveway of that little white house, we would run up to the door say, “Hi Grandma!” and run down the old creaky stairs to the basement. My sister and I would quickly open the cupboard with all the clothes in it and put them on. I always wanted to wear the blue dress with the brown high heels while my sister would wear the pink dress with the black high heels.
We would stay in the basement for hours playing dress-up and having a good time. Then we would hear my grandma say, “Morgan and Brenna, time for dinner.” We wouldn’t go upstairs unless it was our favorite meal: Smiley fries. Oh we loved those things. “Smiley fries for dinner,” she would add. We would hurry take off the dress-up clothes, run up the creaking stairs and take our seats at the table. We would scarf down our smiley fries while my grandma would demand us to slow down. Once we finished, we would bolt back downstairs and put our dress clothes back on, not stopping for anything.
As I look back now, I realize this is the life that I wanted: The life of wearing dresses and feeling pretty all over again, the life of not stopping for anything besides what I want to stop for.
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