Another memory: lazy weekends

I've been thinking a lot about my childhood this weekend, and this morning I wrote this one-sentence, 100-words exercise about lazy weekend mornings: 

 

I remember many lazy weekends when I was a child, mornings spent in bed, reading my favorite books and listening to the hum of the household around me--Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen, my sister in the living room, her spoon clanking against her cereal bowl, the Road Runner's beep-beep blaring from the television--and I would keep reading, forgetting about breakfast, forgetting sometimes about lunch, as I immersed myself in someone else's reality, someone else's life, until from a kind of fog, I would hear my mother calling me, jarring me back to my own reality.