family visits

I've been to these houses before. But I only know who they belong to when I scan the hallway pictures on the way to the bathroom. On prancing tippy toes I'd try to absorb as much of their family history as I possibly could before my prancing became lord of the dance speed and I'd have to run (not as gracefully) to the baby hued bathroom. That's another thing about my mom's side- the frilly bathrooms. They're always baby blue or pink or coral, and their scallopped window treatments always match their scallopped toilet seat covers, always with hand embroidered pink carnations. Clear Softsoap by every sink. It seems the only modern thing in there is the toothbrushes.
Back in the hallway, I can look at the pictures more, trying to waste time here instead of just wasting away at the dining room table while the adults talk. 'Oh, I know her,' I think remembering the tall, thin woman with her long curls bouncing. Wow, she looks almost the same from her first communion picture, except of course, she no longer has a bob and she has boobs and hips now. "I hope I'll grow up to look like her," I wish to myself, thinking about how everyone says how big my eyes are while they look at my overalled tummy. Noooow, I understand why everyone would call me 'gorda'.