Homes

I live with a monster. Everyday, I come back from school, I mean, before the pandemic, and climb right into its mouth. Actually, the monster has several mouths. The biggest one in its front can be opened with a remote controller. Sounds very convenient? Wrong. In the frigid winters, I have to help shovel the snow in front of it to make it work. To live in it, it requires every family member to pay the price. The monster requires my family to go earn money, clean it’s insides and outsides, and keep it in good condition. My monster takes up a lot of our time, effort, and money. Every day, my family tussles with cleaning, electrical bills, and furniture placement. However, my monster is not bad all the time, just like Hiccup and Toothless relationships. In that monster, I have complete control over my actions. If I don’t want to wear socks, I don’t. I can sit on the couch and drop cookie crumbs into the couch cushion crevices. My dad can sleep on the couch for a long time. Many things that my family cannot do in public spaces can be done in the monster. During the pandemic, my monster is the only place that can hide from being ticketed. Every family has one of these monsters. When I grow up, I will also have one. And, wherever my monster is, that is where my home is. This monster is my protector, my pet, and my harbor.