Home is where

My home is not just brick walls and a roof. My home is where I see pictures full of memories, happy and sad. Pictures of my family and friends. I also see my dad’s dozens of plants, big and small. My home is where I watch the television and see movies that have been played over and over and over again. My home is where I hear music and singing from day to night. Music from the piano and my little sisters singing all the time. My home is where laughter fills the house from bid or or even little jokes. My home is where I feel safe to sleep at the end of the day. Where I feel comfortable sharing my feelings. My home is where I feel loved no matter what. My home is where I can smell fresh food and mom’s hard work. Where I can smell a candle on very special nights. My home is where on Saturdays and Sundays, I can smell my dad’s coffee brewing in the coffee machine. My home is where I taste sweet, salty and warm gooey treats. As well as homemade cookies and pies, mom’s specialty. Home is where I can be me.