Kiki, where are you from?
Where are you from, Kiki?
I’m from spending summers with my family around the globe, buying ice cream and popsicles with the burning sun over our heads, watching my brother and dad racing down the street with their arms out like airplanes.
I’m from Saturday’s waking up at 12 in the afternoon, smelling the food waft up from the kitchen to my room, asking my mom “What’s for breakfast” and she’ll say “It’s 12 we’re eating lunch” and laughing.
I’m from the big yellow house with loads of blooming flowers in the spring, looking for the first rose on my mother’s rose plants, exclaiming “I see a bud” and watching everyone race over to see, using up all the tissues from the pollen in the air, raking up the flower petals off the pavement.
I’m from 4th of July’s spent with family and friends, playing in the burning sand on the private beach and diving into the pool, canoeing in the cool clear blue lake and watching the fireworks bursting into color, enjoying the barbeques and eating snacks.
I’m from winters throwing snowballs at friends, speeding down my driveway on my blue sled, freezing my face in the bright white snow, drinking hot chocolate with a fluffy blanket and a 500 page fiction book.
I’m that family-traveling, late-waking, tissue-using, 4th of July-celebrating, hot chocolate-drinking girl.
That’s where I’m from.