The New House
I loved the house my family lived in when I was eight years old. There was room for all of my toys and plenty of grass in the backyard for my greyhound Jessie. My room was the best part; my dad had just painted it my favorite color, navy blue.
My parents told me one day that we were planning on moving to a new house, somewhere closer to the rest of my family. One weekend I tagged along to go see a house they were interested in; when we got there they completely surprised me by telling me that this was going to be our new house.
My parents wanted to take me on a tour of the new house. The first place we saw was the basement. It was dark and the walls felt like a cold wet dungeon. I was not happy at all, my basement at my first house was warm and cozy. I did not like this house already.
The next room my parents wanted me to see was what was going to be my new bedroom. They covered my eyes as I walked into the room and at the count of three I opened my eyes to what I thought was what had to be the largest room in the house. My parents told me that I was going to get all new furniture and even a computer for my new room. I was very excited at this point and wanted to move in today.
But that wasn't the only good news.
I was going to have a baby brother!
