Mid-summer blues guided me indoors, for a much needed cool down from the blistering hot sun that cast upon the entire backyard. No where could I escape the humid July heat better than the air conditioned sanctuary I called home. I lazily pranced through the back door slowly making my way to the kitchen. As I opened the old leaking refrigerator, I felt a blast of cold air hit my face. With a newly added bounce in my step and a cup of ice cold water in hand I headed off to my father’s room. I secretly knew that he would be propped up in his new black leather office chair listening to NPR. With a blast of energy I opened the wooden door. My excitement dwindled away. The light was off and his black tennis shoes were gone.
I was extremely disappointed to find a disserted bedroom. My mind quickly raced away. I had to find another way to keep my dirty little hands busy. The idle television and freshly made California king size bed called my name. I had big plans in my little mind, I had came to the conclusion that it would be the perfect chance to kick back and relax like the grown folks do. I crawled up and sprawled out on the lush mattress. With my long sun-bleached hair fanned out over the pillow I felt as if I was on top of the world.
As I cooled down in style my energy began to bottle up. Before I knew it my idea of relaxation turned into a party. I was jumping high into the air. Each bounce added more exhilaration. I soon lost all control, I was about to break one of the all time rules: Never, under any circumstances open the small wooden box on my father’s headboard. I never knew what great treasure it held. Though at that point in time I was ready to find out.
Just as I plopped down on the bed and placed my hands on the sides of the wooden box my father walked in. The blue handmade comforter now covered the floor. Pillows were scattered around the room and I was doing the unthinkable. I held in my hands his wooden box. He did not have to say one word. I was already well aware of the disappointment my Father’s piercing blue eyes burned into me. Just as fast as the wonderful idea came, it was gone. I placed the box back onto the headboard where it belonged and began to fix the disarray I had caused. Still to this day I can tell when my father is disappointed by looking into his aging eyes.