Saturday, September 4, 2010

Home is where the doughnut is

Doughnut Land

It is starting to look more like I will be moving back home to Ohio by the end of the year, something I have been trying to do for a couple of years now. Owning a home while the economy is crumbling all around is a huge stumbling block to moving back. It's beyond a stumbling block. It's one of the concrete barricades that the police put in front of Federal buildings now.

I have started to think more about the home I grew up in and my friends and family. The major holidays and family picnics and the small things as well. When I was little my dad and I had a tradition that to this day brings a smile to my face.

Every Sunday, we would gather up the newspaper and sit in the back table in this picture. My dad would read the sports page and I would read the funnies. He would get a black coffee served in a plastic cup and I would get a chocolate milk. My dad would get a cinnamon roll - which was an adult doughnut and I would get an apple filled, unless I were feeling adventurous and I would get colored sprinkles.

Sitting there together, he might share with me some tid bit about the Indians while I pointed out Snoopy's latest adventure.  The rest of the morning would be spent plunking quarters into the video game machine. For awhile it was Defender, then Galaga (one of my personal favorites) and Ms. Pac Man.


We were very serious about our video game playing. I remember my dad even got me a strategy book, which may have been a ploy to save quarters, but I still thought it was highly cool of him. I always looked forward to Sundays for a little dad/daughter bonding time.

Right now, I don't get back to town very often, and rarely am I still there on a Sunday, but sometimes I am ... and we go out for a doughnut. I now fight him for the sports page, and I get a cinnamon roll now. I still get a chocolate milk though. Not entirely ready to grow up.

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