In my home
My eyes jerk open as if I just heard something explode. Well, I pretty much did. I got out of bed and smacked my alarm clock. The alarm was some guy singing about Rogers Place or something. My dog, Diesel, raises his head. It’s 6:45. I go into my living room and read my book. I am very grateful I have these special things. One thing a house needs to become a home is memories. In 2017 my cousins from England came for about 3 weeks. It was fun having them around. Good times. These memories make my house my home. I eat my breakfast (Froot Loops) and go get dressed. I put on some pink ripped jeans and my Oil Kings hockey jersey that’s 100’000’000 sizes too big and my favourite Jack Skellington sweater. I get ready to go to school and try not to be late (for the 1’000’000’000’000th time) and get on the bus. My legos are in my backpack, and to be honest, I have like 96 of those too. I LOVE MY PRECIOUS LEGOS. I am very thankful that I have them in my home.