What Home Means to Me

To me home isn’t a place, it's a feeling. The feeling of home is where when I wake up on a bright Saturday morning I smell fresh warm crispy blueberry waffles in the toaster, and when I walk down stairs my dad wakes up and he gives me a delightful hug before he turns on the machine and makes a… well for me its but for dad its a coffee. Then I snuggle up, and binge watch my favorite show “ THE THUNDER MANS” on the couch. Then while my dad’s making breakfast I smell sausages, and eggs with extra warm crispy bacon. I go into the living room and let’s say it’s 12:00, and I see my very special piano sent generation to generation from my great great gramps waiting to be played. Walk into the kitchen at like 5:00 , and I see my mom dancing to 2pac while making dinner… and ya.T hats what my mom does ( hahaha! ).And last but not least after dinner I taste crunchy chips when my whole family gets on the couch, and my very funny dad will always get the BIG PACK of ruffles, but to gather it all up… Of course to me home is a feeling where I feel happy, peaceful, calm, loved, and respected for who I am