My step-dad was always big on music. I think me learning the piano was probably the proudest moment of his life. Anyway, back in California, he used to played his expensive guitar everyday, the same songs over and over. It annoyed the crap out of me but then in 2003, I discovered music myself. I began playing with my radio one day and found my favorite song came on.
A few month later, my birthday was coming up. So my step-dad took me out to buy my first CD. I ended up picking up …Baby One More Time. I thought it was good at the time.
During the following week, while my friend and I were doing our homework, my brand-new CD would be playing from the computer, shuffle and repeat on. One day, the same track played three times, repeatedly.
I don’t have the original CD anymore. I donated it when I moved. However, I recently fell in love with old music and reacquired it again. I’ve been listening to it these last couple of days while working and man, does it remind me of those days. Yesterday, after dropping off my aunt and cousin, while I was looking for my mom, I found myself singing the songs.
While I was singing, images of my friend and I sitting at the dining table doing homework came into my head. When I got home, I wanted to write about it but I wrote a different story instead. Oh well. So this is my response to yesterday’s prompt.