What Home Means to Me

For me, home is my cat lying on my bed and asleep soundly, like a koala. My mom making delicious food makes my saliva start to flow. My dad teaches me math like a professor. I'm sitting in front of my desk, trying to solve my Rubik's Cube, even though I've never solved it before, but I'm still trying my best. Remember last summer, I played soccer with my dad on the field, ate frozen watermelon under the huge tree, and listened to my mom singing a song; at that time, I thought it was home. When I'm chasing a butterfly in the sky, I say to myself, “What would happen if I became a butterfly too?” I went to ask my mom, “Mom, would you notice me if I could become a butterfly?” My mom answered me, “Yes, honey, of course I'm going to notice.” This is what home feels like to me.