Personal Experience of Staying in The Lounge Area

A Character Sketch, meaning a descriptive essay of a place I know well. My point is when I would sit in my living room, I actually never realized how important a simple room can be. An extreme amount of details about my living room at home. Teacher quoted " Lovely scene setting,clever job"

As I walked down the stairs in the quiet of the morning, baby in hand, I was greeted by the sounds of my own personal waterfall. My day began here, in the living room. As Ethan suckled on his breakfast bottle, I sank down into my velvety couches. My finger navigated around the remote control to fill my son's eyes and ears with Sesame Street. The creaking of my ceiling was letting me know that my husband had awakened, and soon the smell of brewing coffee and the sounds of crackling bacon would fill the air.

I heard a beep coming from the computer, like a mistress saying hello to my husband in my own home. I knew that even though there were three of us there, I had only the baby and myself for the next couple of hours.

In the blue crate of fun my son was on a mission. He was desperately searching for the little man, in the little yellow hard hat. Finally the hunt was over. The little man in the yellow hat had made his way across my coffee table.

I found myself gazing at these pictures, these portals to the past, and I was transported to a time when I felt eight pounds and four ounces of love cradled in my arms for the first time. As I reminisced I was brought back to the present by the smells of pork roast and potatoes roasting in our electric skillet.

Garlic salt and pepper reminded me that once again my stomach was growling. My son was in his eating chair and my husband and I were indulging in the fruits of his labor.

We were entertained by yet another showing of Monsters Inc. Rubbing his eyes and scratching his ears, my son had informed us that it was time for bed. Turning off the light and heading up the stairs for the final time of the day, the last thing I heard was the sound of water coming from my fish tank, my own personal waterfall.

These are all memories of the place I had grown to love. These pictures, the fish tank, my husband, and my son made our first apartment the greatest. Even though I had to grow to love this place, I will never forget all the happy moments that we had created there. Hopefully, when my husband returns I will hear the sounds, smell the indulging scents, and the pictures can be memories once again instead of reality.