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November 07, 2005
All in One Room
Today at school I asked my class to guess how old I was. There were a couple stray guesses until someone yelled out "13." After that there was consensus, I was 13.
No, I'm not thirteen, but I can remember when I was that old.
I was about that old when my family spent a while visiting my grandparents in their 2 room apartment. The apartment was big, but it was only two rooms. So, thing were a little cramped when it came time for bed.
Before bed my brother, sister and I had to go into the other room in the house and grab our respective mattresses we piled up earlier that morning. We'd lay the three mattresses out next to each other in a room barely wider than the mattresses were long. Our mom and dad slep on a real bed at the other end of the room while grandma and grandpa slept on sofas they'd convert into beds at opposite ends of the main room of the apartment.
My grandparents usually slept in seperate rooms. I thought that was strange until I found our how light a sleeper my grandpa is and how my grandma screams out for the police in the middle of the night. My grandma usually slept in the main room of the apartment and the rest of us kicked my grandpa out of his usual room.
He grudgingly gave up his room seeing how tight it was with just the five of us.
And it was a tight fit.
I remember waking up in the middle of the night hearing my parents as if they were right next to me, "Get a condom first."
I don't remember hearing any more. Perhaps I blocked it. All I remember was trying as hard as I could to cover my ears without moving too fast. I didn't want my parents to hear that I was awake and give me a sex talk in the morning.
It took me a few years, but I finally told my brother about what I heard. "Yeah. I heard something like that." He said. "Dad was trying to get some then too, but mom kept saying that she thought we were awake. Dad kept saying 'They're asleep. Come on.' and mom kept daying I think I heard them. Then dad said, 'They're not awake. If they were they'd answer to this.'"
Then my dad called outa little something to each of us. I can't get out of my brother exactly was each was. He says that to my sister my dad yelled, "I found a bunch of change on the sidewalk." And to keep from laughing about whatever was yelled to him he had to cover his mouth and bite down hard on his covers.
But if I remember his story right, he continued to listen.
Posted by calculatoronfire at November 7, 2005 11:15 PM
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Comments
When my father was remodelling my bedroom, I had to sleep in the guest room across the hall from their bedroom.
I'm happy my parents still loved each other after 20-some years together (at that point), but I didn't need to hear it every morning.
Posted by: Freak Magnet at November 9, 2005 02:22 PM
You mix my stories worse than any bitch I know. If you are going to tell stories I tell you don't change them if you can't remember them get clarification before you write the shit down.
Posted by: nick at November 9, 2005 05:21 PM
ha ha ha. sorry, i don't check your blogs too often because i hate my computer usually. you know. but i remember an apartment like this. and i know your family. i think i was known as a little tomato? i've got to go take the girls for a walk now. give me a call or a mail sometime. i'd do it now, but dogs bark...
Posted by: stef at November 30, 2005 01:41 AM