Where I'm From

February 26, 2018
By TimidPlatypus GOLD, Sussex, Wisconsin
TimidPlatypus GOLD, Sussex, Wisconsin
19 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I am from my Mom’s fresh baked chocolate chip cookies after school
and being thrown down the hill on my bike, to feeling the tickle of the grass on my bare feet and swimming in the neighbors pool with my clothes on.
I’m from going go karting with my Dad and shopping with Rayna, to rock climbing with Mira and my Mom tucking me into bed as a child.
I’m from the white cape cod and the stop sign at the corner of the yard, to the bright bursts of flowers in front of the house.
I’m from the sprawling green lawn, to the pine trees along the property line and the flag on the side of the house to the crimson adirondack chairs by the front door.
I’m from a family that holds together tightly and the 20 minute rides to church on Sunday, to the friends I hung out with after school, and playing sports.
I’m from the dew soaked sweatpants from playing football before school, and the four square we played at recess, to the deck of cards I won by doing my times tables, and the honor roll breakfasts I’d go to with my parents.
I’m from moving houses and schools, and acting my age after the first day of high school, to getting my license and taking four hour road trips to friend’s houses.
I’m from the sloppy, squishy, and spongy spring grass that I despised, to the humid days my family spent on the lake in the boat.
I’m from hunting in the quiet woods of Northern Wisconsin, and fly fishing in the trickling streams of Silverthorne, Colorado, to camping in Peninsula State Park, and bike rides along Lake Michigan.
I’m from the 70 pound backpack that felt like it would break my back and the hours of studying before finals, to the classes I could sleep in and the hockey games after school on Fridays.
I’m from the bland buzz cut I had until 8th grade and the stale spectacles I wore, to the longer brown hair that swooped to the side and the bigger framed glasses that kept me in style.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer

Wellesley Summer