When I was younger, my family and I lived in a brick house. Friendly. Cozy. Welcoming. It had a soft terracotta color, with a bright teal door. We had quite a few potted plants on our porch, and flowy flowers in our yard. We did so much work on that house. From painting our rooms in cheerful colors, to creating the garden of our dreams, the house shaped me just as we shaped it. 

My sister, Ida, and I ran around the house with our friends, playing on our playset and having a splendid time. As our house was next to the school, everyday Ida and I raced there. On holidays, our town held huge parades, and the parades went right down our street. Because of this, my family would grab our lawn chairs and set up camp at the edge of our yard. Our area also held the cow chip festival, where you can play games, and throw cow chips for prizes! Along with that, Ida and I were in a girl scout troop with our friends, and we held competitions for who could get the most sales. After all the fun, we would have even more of an experience by getting together and holding a celebration. 

Not only did we have fun outside of our house, but we had fun inside too. We had many games including Skylanders, Mario Kart, Barbies, American Girl Dolls, Monster Highs, Hot Wheels, Polly Pockets, Beanie-Boos, and Lego sets. I have specific memories of each of these things, but my favorite definitely has to be when Ida, my female cousins, and I forced our male cousin into the barbie house we had. We chased him up and down the hallway and tackled him repeatedly, trying to capture him and force him to play with us. I can hear us giggling while he screams; the grouped “tee-hee’s” and the singular “ahhhhhhhh!”

I still hold onto these memories, and in more ways than just remembering. I’ve kept as many toys as I possibly could, even going against my dad in some cases. Unfortunately, we lost our Polly Pockets, Barbies, and Hot Wheels. But on the bright side, we have all of the others, and every once in a while I manage to convince Ida to play them with me. 

All of these memories have made a huge impact on me. Living in that house changed me for the better, made me the best person I could possibly be. And maybe things in that house weren’t so great. Maybe some things were imprinted on me in the wrong way. There were times we were chastised. There were times our parents used malice. However, the positive memories of my parents and our house push the negative ones out of the picture. I exalt our old house. It was a fantastic place of warmth, and the impact it made on me is truly great.