Home, Not a House

I got off the bus, cold but excited to go inside. My sister and I are racing home to get inside first; she won because she’s older, but I still do it for fun. When I get inside my glasses fog up like leaving a lid on a pot with boiling water in it. I usually make a snack while watching YouTube. After a couple of hours, it’s 5:30. My dad usually comes home first, since my mom’s a nurse practitioner, she comes home later around 6:00. When they come home, I run down the stairs to immediately hug them. When my dad cooks dinner, I smell the aroma of pasta with thick tomato sauce from the kitchen. When my mom calls us down for dinner, we come running down the stairs, starving and ready to eat a delicious meal. When we all sit at the dining table together, we talk about how our day was and how work was. When we’re done eating when get some cookies and ice cream on the couch while watching stranger things. This is my average day at home. It might seem like just a house to you, but to me this is my home.