Stories from my childhood: "Fake" roads

I'm starting a new series on my blog. I have no clue how this'll go, how often I'll post segments or anything, but I figure I'll start and see where it leads. Tonight's story: "Fake" Roads

When I was 7, my family moved from one side of town to the other. I remember being upset with the road that my new house was on. My old house was on a black asphalt road with yellow lines down the middle - a "real" road in my mind. The new house was on a white concrete road with no yellow lines - a "fake" road. Even before we moved, if we were driving to someone's house and they had a concrete road leading to their house, I would think to myself how awful it must be to live on a "fake" road. And then - to my dismay - we moved to one of those roads. I was sure it was going to be terrible to live on a "fake" road. Luckily I gave up on that quickly and realized soon that most neighborhoods had concrete streets anyway and my old house was more of the exception.