F  riday night dates, frosted lipstick,  and fussing with their hair, my sisters never realized that I had stood on my tip toes to watch them drive away.

o ur jeans in different sizes and styles hanging on the clothesline, while the lounge chairs, radio, and suntain lotion covered our deck.

u p to the top of the stairs I would sneak, as I heard the sounds of Jim Croce, Carly Simon,  Chicago, and Dick Clark on American Bandstand. 

r elaxing on the hammock in our yard, the scent of frosted pink nail polish filling the yard, while Cosmopolitan magazines covered the table.  

s ilk dresses, sandals, and the scent of candles filled the room, while bell bottom pants and flip flop shoes were lined up in their rooms.

  i ndecisiveness  about which outfit to wear, while curling irons, brushes, eyelash curlers and mascara cluttered our bathroom sink, while four different opinions went across the kitchen table.

s haring their clothes, albums, and purses while loud knocks on the bathroom door started early in the morning. The dried corsages and prom gowns were neatly placed in our closet.

t oys, dolls, perfume, and boyfriends always filled our house, while I chased fireflies. 

e veryone giving special gifts and flowers to mom and dad always made me smile, even when we were squeezed tightly around the dining room table.

r  ed tricycles and bicycles with training wheels were on top of the driveway, with a loving hand to help me keep my balance. Towels covered the raft at the lake while their transistor radio played.

s ilently my father (papa) would wait for my sisters to return home, as he drank his chianti with peach slices and lit his Lucky Strike cigarette, our den light was always on for my sisters. 

This is how I remember things as I was the youngest of six children. I was not old enough to go out with them, but I remember certain images and vivid details as I followed them around.