Today's NaBlogPoMo prompt:"When was the first time you realized your home was not like other people's home?"
Christmas 1957 maybe. I was little, maybe 3 or 4 years old. Family was invited to my uncle's new house. It was big and beautiful. Full of people! Even a small percentage of them wouldn't fit into our house. At least that is how I perceived it. My family never entertained. The grandparents would come over for birthdays and Christmas Eve, but that was the extent of it. Even that was only one set of grandparents,
the other was in Florida, so they never came.
So my little brain was not conscience of the actual difference, but I knew.
There was not a spread of food and drink like this in our home.
The decorations were never as bright and lavish as these were.
Their was no laughter like this gathering had.
Different, very different.
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