Mel. Don't leave your sneakers at the bottom of the stairs. I can't keep telling you!"
That's my dad, Raymond Wilson. Shouting up to me from the bottom of the stairs, again. He doesn’t so much yell, but his tone let's me know there is a great deal of disappointment in his voice. He tells me about my sneakers a million times a week, and yeah, I always forget. I kick them off after getting home and head to my room, slump onto my bed and throw on my headphones.