I lay in the middle of my room and look around at my lovely mess.'How am I supposed to make this all fit into boxes so that I can move today?'
This is possibly the worst summer in the history of summers. First of all my mom just told me yesterday that we were going to live with her soon to be wife in a small town near Chicago.
Don't get me wrong, I love Jo (my soon to be second mom) she is cool and I love being around her. But I hate the idea of moving.
I throw a pile of clothes into a box and frown. "Mom! How do I pack all of this?" I yell down the hall.
She slowly appears in my doorway. My mother is a older version of me, well appearance wise. She has her long brown hair pulled up into a messy bun and her clothes don't look much better. Sighing she leans into the door frame,"I'll have to help my little helper then?"
I smile and spread out my arms in a welcoming guester inviting her to my mess.