if home were the five senses

I have lived most of my life at my grandparents house in Brock. Recently, I have moved to Westsyde. Therefore I had trouble picking five senses that mean home to me, because both homes are quite distinct. I shall start with my grandparents home. If home was a sound, it would be my grandparent’s dog begging to sit on my lap. It would be the constant squeaking of dog toys. And my grandma calling almost everybody she knows, leaking top secret information to my eardrums. If home was a smell, it would be the wretched stench of the Billy sticks my grandparent’s dog chews. It would be the wonderful smell of mashed potatoes and gravy my grandma makes on holidays, exciting me to devour the meal. If home was a feeling, it would be the feeling of warmth from being upstairs and the instant chill from the freezers in the cold dark basement. If home was a taste, it would be the delicious chocolate and candy my grandparents give me. If home were a sight, it would be my grandpa watching guitar tutorials on the computer. It would be my grandma sitting on the porch. Now I shall describe the five senses as my new home. If home was a taste, it would be the delicious tacos my mom makes. If home was a sound, it would be my little brother saying “mama” and ”dada”. If home was a feeling, it would be my fluffy dog, my mom's hugs and the pleasant feeling of my bed. If home was a sight, it would be my dad watching television. It would be My mom cooking. My little brother playing with his toys and my dog running around my backyard. If home was a smell, it would be the ground beef from my mom cooking dinner.