What Home Means to Me

Home feels like:
My dog’s soft fur when we sleep together. Safety because my dad is a cop. Relaxation, when I lay down on the couch and watch Netflix with my mom. Home smells like: My dog’s stinky bone that makes his breath smell bad. My dad and my brother’s cologne because my brother puts way too much cologne on and does not know that he does. Home tastes like: Lipton Noodle Soup on a cold day. My mom’s homemade ginger snap cookies. My mom’s chili. My family gets mad at me because I put way too much cheese on it! Home sounds like: My dog barking at his reflection in the mirror because he thinks it’s a different dog. My mom hitting pots and pans together in the kitchen My brother yelling at his friends on Fortnight. Home looks like: A welcoming place to stay because of our living room. Fun, because we have a pool and a hot tub with floaties. My favourite floaty is my pink flamingo.