My Home

As I walk into my split entry home, I’m greeted by my beautiful black and white Bernedoodle, Charlie, who is already waiting just for me. His tail wags like crazy the moment he sees me, thumping against the wall as if he can’t contain his excitement. His soft fur is messy, like he’s been playing all day, and his loving eyes are locked on mine. Before I can even take off my shoes, he trots over, full of energy, ready for pets and attention. As I reach down to pet him, he leans into my hand, and I can’t help but smile. With Charlie happily following at my feet, I move deeper into the house. I step into the cozy kitchen, filled with wood counters and drawers, with a beautiful marble island sitting right in the middle. This is the room where cookies fill the air with the warm smell of sugar and heat. Pots rest quietly on the stove, waiting for dinner to be made, while the microwave hums as it heats my brother’s meal. The stove still holds gentle warmth from earlier, making the room feel extra comforting. It’s not very big, but it’s full of happiness and the feeling that everything is just right. An open doorway leads into the living room, where my family and I watch our favorite shows together. We sit close on the couch, wrapped in blankets that feel like fluffy clouds, making it hard to get up once you’re comfortable. As I walk down the dim hallway, I see my bedroom from afar. Inside, my clean clothes are folded neatly on my bed, my vanity sits quietly in the corner, and the rusty pink color of my bed fills my heart with warmth. A house means nothing on its own—it’s how you make it a home that truly matters.