I am from a house on a hill with a vine that pokes you every time you walk in.

I am from a room with purple walls and a record player that plays 24/7.

I am from walks to Glen Park to get dinner and a street with ginormous trees and no parking.

I am from stairs that you slip on with socks and the kitchen that is multi-purpose.

I am from the sleek brown couch that you cannot get comfortable on.

I am from the fish that glides through the bowl outside of the house.

I am from a soccer-playing family with games every weekend.

I am from funny jokes that make me laugh to friends who make me smile.

I am from people calling me weird to people calling me nice.

I am from a baseball-loving family that just wants the Giants to win for once.

I am from juicy burritos every Sunday and hot vegetable soup every Wednesday.

I am from cold, soft crab on Christmas to homemade sushi.

I am from the yummy steaming stir-fry that makes the house smell like soy sauce, and the bright colored fresh fruit every morning.

I am from the crispy bacon every Sunday, and the soft mushy pancakes every Saturday.

I am from the crunchy chips that we eat on the road to the juicy chicken that we have for leftovers.

I am from the hot mouth-watering miso soup in a cup to homemade chicken stock.

I am from Christmas with family to Hannuka with friends.

I am from birthdays at a lake and Father’s Day surfing.

I am from Mother’s Day breakfast in bed and MLK Day skiing.

I am from lighting candles on Friday to big fat juicy turkeys on Thanksgiving.

I am from Passover with my large, loud, and loving family.

This is where I’m from.