Playlists
Growing up, there was always music playing in our house. When I was little, I would wake up and go into the kitchen, and my Mom would be playing some classical music while she was making breakfast. I honestly don't remember much about breakfast other than there would be a family breakfast before my Dad took off for the college and my Mom started her day. I remember seeing her in the kitchen with this fuzzy, polyester blue robe that was already old by the time I was 5. She wore the same robe until it got pitched (I think) when we moved to Chicago. Looking at the pictures (my Mom was into scrapbooking before scrapbooking was cool), breakfast generally involved sitting at the bar in the kitchen on the most wonderfully spin-ny bar stools that I have experienced in my life. I can remember the rumbling sound of the ball bearings inside of it and I remember going from side to side, not sitting still on those stools, much to my Mom's chagrin (yes, even ...
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