The memories, the laughs, the birthday parties and the family holidays that my house has hosted are treasured. I love this house. We moved here when I was five; I remember when there was just a foundation, and I looked to the sky imagining my room in the clouds. Recently, my house has been getting a few modifications. I’m either waking up to a man swinging from scaffling outside of my window or standing in my room discussing options with my mother. I walk outside, and there they are, climbing ladders and cutting boards. I give them my best “good morning” as I get in my car. One said the other day, “You spending the night with your grandmother again?” Well my, my, I didn’t know they were keeping such close tabs on me. I appreciate their hard work. We’ve got to get this house ready for my wedding reception. When dad revealed that there would be some remodeling to our house, I made a pause for the cause as I put my hands in the stop position. Reminding him that we really needed to keep my wedding reception in mind. I asked him if he had thought about the flow of traffic and the location of the six tiered wedding cake. I can hear the bells.
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