Week #8 Home is where the heart is..

To be really honest. I really don't know where I would consider my home to be...I have lived in several homes before and they all have so many memories ...but I definitely don't have a favorite memory. My first home was in Streator..it was a brick house out in the country with no neighbors close close by...there were some close ones but nothing to close. I really enjoyed loving in the country and not in town...it was so much better. I have some great memories there. One is of my play set. It had a couple swings and a yellow slide. I use to always be out there. When my sister and I got into fights I would pack up my Winnie the Poo suitcase with only stuffed animals and pj's and move out there for the night...which of course wasn't long because my sister always came and apologized to me so I would come back inside...she was so sweet...I guess. Another memory would be on Christmas when my sister and I got a big wheel bike. Like the bikes with the one big wheel in the bak and two small ones in the back. Let's just say that thing was fast! Mostly fast because we would walk it up the huge (what was huge to us) hill and take turns riding it down! It was a blast. Now before I move on to the next house (pun intended on the moving (;...) I have one last memory to share about that house. It was surrounded by trees on the one side and my dog (her name was Harley) would always go running back there and bring all sorts of dead animals and she would lay them right in front of the door so she knew we seen them !!!  How nasty is that? Now the next house was a blue house in Washburn. It was on the main road..wasn't very fun. The only good memory I have there is....my sister and I had rooms upstairs and at the bottom of the stairs was a door so shut the stairs off from the rest of the house. Now we would shut the door and pack the whole bottom of the steps with every blanket and pillow we had! Then we would take my small mattress and ride it house and stairs and end up pummeling into all the blankets and pillows. We did it soo many times. We also got in trouble for doing it too...but it was also so fun we had to keep doing it! So then my dad ended up moving to LaRose and my mom stayed in Washburn but moved to a different blue house...the house I live in now. This house doesn't have any really good memories at the moment..so with that being said I will go on to the memories I have when I went to my dads. His house was white and it looked really really big...but it's just a normal house. This is where my brother comes into all the memories. This is the nasties memory of them all. The one weekend we stayed there and it was of course shower and bed time. I took my shower first and was all done sitting on the couch with my hair wet and in my pjs..and out comes my brother (he was really little at the time...but not so little he wouldn't walk) (I don't know how old to say he was) walking toward me in his towel because he yet to go get his pjs. He walks over and sits on my shower just messing around...now he sat up there for a long long time and I was not thinking anything bad of it .....until.......be got up.....HE POOPED ON MY SHOULDER. I repeat HE POOPED ON MY SHOULDER. Now that is sooo gross. My dad didn't even yell at him. My dad just couldn't stop laughing and I was in tears !! By far the grossest thing that had ever happned. Like eewww. So with that being said.....what is your grossest memory?