I am from a household with zero privacy.
Where it’s especially rigorous to complete a homework assignment,
Without clenching a fist at the noisy siblings.
Where the coffee pot brews,
as an unusual substance sizzles in the Crock Pot,
Reeking of spices.

I am from a household where I can never access Netflix,
forced to weave your way through the garage.
Cuss words float through my head as I bump,
into the garbage can in the way.

I am from monthly trips up north.
With jaunty rides in a bed of a truck,
and zipping around on ATVs and dirt bikes.

I am from the sap-filled and earthy smell of the Northwoods.
Of pine trees, curious squirrels, and a crack of a 12 gauge.
My blood hums with adrenaline.

I am from a lake with dark, yet clear water.
Where untold hours are spent on the boat,
hoping to catch the next fish.
A hum of a spinnerbait as it saunters towards the boat.

I am from weekday mornings of hockey practice,
and of timely weekends with friends.
A profoundly awaited daily trip to the gym,
dreading the everlasting homework session that follows.

I am from laughter at the lunch table.
Where nothing can be said without laughing hysterically.
Sarcastic. . . yet joyful.