Attics

In our house today we have an attic above our garage.  In my childhood home there was just an opening in the ceiling to an unfinished attic.  But some neighbors across the street had a huge attic with a floor and steps leading up to it. On rainy days we sometimes were allowed to go up in their attic. We played board games, mostly, and our friends' mom would make popcorn and Koolaid.  I thought she was such a nice mom, and, also, I thought she was beautiful.  Her name was Elaine.  I thought that was a beautiful name, too. I named my Barbie doll Elaine.  Everyone else could have a Barbie, but I had an Elaine.  The neighbors had a trunk in their attic with old clothes that we could rummage through and try on.  We would put on dresses and pretend the Koolaid was tea.  Such fond memories came to an end when we got a bit rambunctious one day (remember we only went up there when it was raining) and started running around, and someone (who shall remain nameless) threw a handful of popcorn at someone else, and pretty soon there was popcorn all over the attic floor and Elaine came up to see what was going on, and we got kicked out. After that we had to find somewhere else to spend our rainy afternoons.