Saturay's Were The Best Days
I remember when I used to feel free as the wind, not a care in the world, like a kite in the sky, soaring high as I can.
Like, waking up on a Saturday morning to the sounds of my mother playing The Staple Singers “Let’s do it again”
Saturday’s were the best days.
Isn’t it funny, how the things you thought you hated the most is what you remember as good times- because I used to be so irritated with the sounds of the vacuum hitting my bedroom door at 8o’clock or my mother busting into to my room screaming “Rise and shine” while trying to sleep in on a Saturday morning, or jumping out of the bed as if you had to go to work, but instead you went right to the kitchen to make you a bowl of cereal and retired right in front of the television to watch Saturday morning cartoons .
Or, loving to go to the store for your Uncle Greg because you got to keep the change, and hating to go for your mother because she paid in white paper because those were the food stamps days.
Saturday’s were the best days.
I remember we used to sneak and ride our ten speeds around the corner stopping by to see our friends- paddling strong not staying gone too long had to make it home before the street lights came on. Dropping your bike in front of the house, not caring you had a kick stand- trying to hurry in the house rushing to the refrigerator, trying to get the last glass of lemon grape Kool Aid.
Saturday’s were the best days
Remember standing in the kitchen begging for fast-food, because your taste buds weren’t mature enough to appreciate butter beans and cabbage, or black eyed peas and corn bread with baked chicken.
Boy I’d give anything to have those days back, no real responsibilities… just making sure your homework was done and your room was clean, no bills to pay.
Our biggest worry was during the morning, trying to figure out what we were going to wear was it going to be my new cross colors outfit or something simple like stretch pants and a tank top.
Outside jumping rope and doing our steps, while the boys played basket ball in the street- tossing the half inflated ball into milk crate they hung up on some light pole.
Shhh! hold on, wait what’s that I hear… Aww shoot!! Hurryup!! Here comes the ice cream truck, hustling in the house to ante up a dollar two, better hurry because he won’t be back until 1hour before its gets dark or tomorrow around noon.
It was never long enough we grew up so fast- actually wishing we were older then what we really were… LOL I remember anytime someone would asked “how old are you” my response had to be 11 and a half, never just 11.
Now my daughter is that very same age. I have to do my best and give her the praise, so she can know that…
Saturday’s are the best days!
Journey 3-17-08
Like, waking up on a Saturday morning to the sounds of my mother playing The Staple Singers “Let’s do it again”
Saturday’s were the best days.
Isn’t it funny, how the things you thought you hated the most is what you remember as good times- because I used to be so irritated with the sounds of the vacuum hitting my bedroom door at 8o’clock or my mother busting into to my room screaming “Rise and shine” while trying to sleep in on a Saturday morning, or jumping out of the bed as if you had to go to work, but instead you went right to the kitchen to make you a bowl of cereal and retired right in front of the television to watch Saturday morning cartoons .
Or, loving to go to the store for your Uncle Greg because you got to keep the change, and hating to go for your mother because she paid in white paper because those were the food stamps days.
Saturday’s were the best days.
I remember we used to sneak and ride our ten speeds around the corner stopping by to see our friends- paddling strong not staying gone too long had to make it home before the street lights came on. Dropping your bike in front of the house, not caring you had a kick stand- trying to hurry in the house rushing to the refrigerator, trying to get the last glass of lemon grape Kool Aid.
Saturday’s were the best days
Remember standing in the kitchen begging for fast-food, because your taste buds weren’t mature enough to appreciate butter beans and cabbage, or black eyed peas and corn bread with baked chicken.
Boy I’d give anything to have those days back, no real responsibilities… just making sure your homework was done and your room was clean, no bills to pay.
Our biggest worry was during the morning, trying to figure out what we were going to wear was it going to be my new cross colors outfit or something simple like stretch pants and a tank top.
Outside jumping rope and doing our steps, while the boys played basket ball in the street- tossing the half inflated ball into milk crate they hung up on some light pole.
Shhh! hold on, wait what’s that I hear… Aww shoot!! Hurryup!! Here comes the ice cream truck, hustling in the house to ante up a dollar two, better hurry because he won’t be back until 1hour before its gets dark or tomorrow around noon.
It was never long enough we grew up so fast- actually wishing we were older then what we really were… LOL I remember anytime someone would asked “how old are you” my response had to be 11 and a half, never just 11.
Now my daughter is that very same age. I have to do my best and give her the praise, so she can know that…
Saturday’s are the best days!
Journey 3-17-08
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