No Place Like Home

When I am at home, I feel stressed. I go to my bed to rest. I go inside I see my couch. I get settled in so am not a grouch. I grab my iPad and feel the rubber case. Some time I drop it on my face. When I go home, I smell barbecue chips. And it makes me lick my lip. I walk through the house and hear the squeaky floor. And it makes me want to break a door. I make grilled cheese and it taste great. It is like fate. I love spending time at home with my dad. Because my dad is rad.