Sunshine flooded in the room. The sun rose quickly and the light crept up from my feet moving quickly until the bright light shone on my face. I kept my eyes closed. I heard the clinking of dishes and forks from downstairs and the smell of biscuits baking and bacon frying filled the air. I stretched luxuriously and took my old robe from the bedpost and put it on. As I descended the stairs my mother was turning the dial on our old radio. “Hit the road Jack and don’t you come back, no more, no more” blared from the tiny speaker and my mother wiggled her hips, waving a spatula in the air. I sat on the last step of the staircase and watched how her thin apron caught small gusts of air while she moved in time to the music.