My Home

Home is like walking on air then you fall and drift off to sleep. Next you hear CRACK! BANG! As the hockey sticks start yelling at each other with the lovely feeling of scoring a goal and laughing with my dad. Home is like walking on air when my sister and I build a fort and the feeling of pillows all around us as it collapses on us and we build it again. Home is like walking on air when my mom and I play basketball in the summer and play in the snow in the winter. That is the meaning of home.