I am guest posting this over at HeyLauraWhat.com so please go and check out the series that Laura is doing over there!
One morning in 1987, I woke up and I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for school. A quick bath, a dry, undies, leggings, an oversized shirt, and two layers of socks in different colors....put on with one black sock first then a hot pink sock over that with exactly the opposite layering on the other foot, you know, just to look a little private school Punky B. I brushed my hair, but before I could give myself a side half ponytail, it struck.
There is nothing quite like running down a narrow hallway of stairs and watching humungous cracks form, chase you to the bottom and win. I met my mother there at the bottom of the stairs and we quickly hid under our massive dining room table. It stopped, only for a minute and then another one came. It was quite a scene for my eight-year-old self to experience.
One morning in 1987, I woke up and I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for school. A quick bath, a dry, undies, leggings, an oversized shirt, and two layers of socks in different colors....put on with one black sock first then a hot pink sock over that with exactly the opposite layering on the other foot, you know, just to look a little private school Punky B. I brushed my hair, but before I could give myself a side half ponytail, it struck.
There is nothing quite like running down a narrow hallway of stairs and watching humungous cracks form, chase you to the bottom and win. I met my mother there at the bottom of the stairs and we quickly hid under our massive dining room table. It stopped, only for a minute and then another one came. It was quite a scene for my eight-year-old self to experience.
