Full of Memories
Home isn’t just a building, it’s a place full of memories, memories that grow bigger and bigger, like when I said my first word or when I broke the freezer door. I have a bunch of memories from different homes. When I’m at home, I feel like I can be myself. I feel like no matter what I do my family won’t judge.They might be confused, but I know they won’t be a jerk about it.
One thing I love about my homes is that when I come home my dogs are waiting by the door dancing, what I mean by dancing is them jumping up and down wagging their tails and running around in circles. Seeing them so happy just brings me joy right away.
Another thing I love about my homes is that there is a roof over my head, clean water (warm and cold), heat, and of course my family here with me.
I like how a bunch of my friends live close to where I live. Home is where I grew up, and these have been some good years, even though I don’t remember some years. Every home is different in its own way, some are physically smaller than others, some are more fancier. Some families don’t even have a proper home. I love my home and I’m very lucky to have a home.