Walking up the sidewalk reminds me of my childhood. My theory is that everything changes except for the Spevak's House, and because of my anti-adaptable outlook on life, I love that house.
People tend to be surprised when they find out we live right next door. How else would two totally different people remain such good friends? Mari and I joke about our houses a lot. I could be in my bedroom and in less then a minute in hers, but we always tell each other to bring a snack along during our long walks to and from.
But the best part about the house is what's in it. The outside can look a little disheveled and Dad is constantly whining about their boat, but once inside it's like you've entered Narnia.
If you can't find something, go to the Spevak's and you'll find it. Believe me. Need a huge sombrero? They have it, even though none of them have been out of the country. How about a masquerade mask? Take your pick, they have tons. Looking for an oil lamp? Just ask and they'll provide.
So, today when I walked into Mari's bedroom all the worries from this week washed away. Especially when I heard Mari snoring and that my friends is a whole other story....