Migraines...

It was the second day of our move into the house on Long Avenue.
We were at the corner of Long and Diversey. It was away from the hood, and close to the white neighborhood, an inbetweener.
I piled the clothes on hangers onto my arms from the car and struggled through the gate and up the stairs.
As I made my way up the stairs, I took the time to try and appreciate the move... I didn't.
I walked up to the door and turned the knob... it didn't budge.
I pushed the door... it didn't budge either.
I panicked, and that didn't help either as I heard her scream for me to get downstairs.
"I'm trying to get the door open!"
That's when I heard her footsteps hit the first step of the wooden porch, and slowly they made their way up.
She reached the top of our second floor porch and the look on her face was livid.
"What's wrong with the door Vicky?"
I stared at her, then back at the door, "I don't know, I know I didn't lock it...:"
She huffed, "Then why is it not opening?"
A moment of silence.
"It's jammed..."
I backed away slowly from her but it was too late, my head was grabbed at an angle and I felt the hairs rip out from my head as she bashed it into the door, not once, not twice, but three times, and the door magically opened.

I wiped my eyes of the tears & looked in the mirror. I winced softly, and opened the door. I walked over to the living room and sat down, I picked up my plate of food and ate quietly.
"Did you see that commercial about the little boy and his father? It looked so cute."
My mother stared at me, "Yeah, that's great mom, really."
"You gotta watch it!"
In that moment my mother started reenacting the commercial and I forced myself to hold in the laugh. I stared at the TV, "Look at you trying to hold in the laugh, you know you wanna laugh."
And at that moment I couldn't hold it in, I laughed, and hard to, the kind that you just can't stop. And we laughed together, endlessly.
And we both forgot