The Best Thing
6:02 a.m., Saturday morning. It?s early but my eyes crack open slightly and I roll
underneath my covers. I stretch my arms and legs, making loud groans as my body
twists and turns. Half awake, my legs drag me to the window and I pull up the shades.
Blinded by the morning light, my fingers feel for the window locks and unlock them. As I
pull open the window the cold, winter air fills my room. I shiver, hugging myself to hold
in the warmth. My eyes finally adjust and a smile creeps across my face. Winter?s first
snow has arrived.
I take one last whiff of the morning air and shut my window gently. Everyone is
still sleeping, enjoying the comforting warmth of their beds. However, I am wide awake
and excited. Slowly, I strip off my pajamas and pull on a first layer of clothing. Heading
to the kitchen, I start my parents? coffee and slide a tray of biscuits into the oven. It
won?t be long before everyone is awake. Lightly tiptoeing to the closet and opening the
door soundlessly, I rummage through the mess. At last I spot the bag. All the way in the
back closet it sits and has been sitting since last winter. I notice
one, window, snow, each, winter, kitchen, everyone, cold, towards, take, smile, pull, last, family, dad, biscuits, begin, air, won?t, way, warmth, through, stuff, slowly, single, side, room, pile, parents?, outside, out, onto, myself, morning, mess, making
