HFD

Hop off the bus from elementary school. Dig out my felt Woodsy Owl keychain. Unlock the door. I had trouble learning to unlock our front door because you had to turn a little to the right, press the handle, and shove in with a shoulder. The three step process was too much when I was eight. My dad drew a tiny arrow directing the key with pencil right above the keyhole.

I'd finally get it, open the screen door and hear:
-The abrupt stop of keys typing at a computer.
-The creak of an office chair.
-My dad's voice building, "Its...it's...Alice!"

I might have sighed, but I liked that great booming welcome from my great booming dad. And slowly I'm sure it built up in me. My entrance is to be celebrated. I'm loved, I'm home.