Where the Wild Things Live

The meaning of home to me is when I walk into the house and I see absolute chaos. The house is a mess, it looks like a grenade went off in the kitchen. I hear one of my sisters playing the cello and the other one singing in the shower. I smell my dad burning toast as he is trying to help my mom with dinner, but my mom kicks him out before he can pop the toast.Then there is me sitting on the couch, crocheting my scarf and watching the grinch,I am also adding to the noise somehow and that is home to me. Home is not a place home is the people you are surrounded by and the feeling you get when you are loved. My home is my shelter, my place where I am welcomed for who I am like how Cindy loo Who welcomed the grinch into whoville even though he was different, green. Home is not just that home is more, home is those unnecessary arguments about who is better, the Flames or the Oilers and home is when you see the beautiful mountains everyday when you drive around it makes my mom so inspired to paint but she tells me to. Home to me is also the Netherlands. It is home because I spent almost my whole life there. I lost my first tooth there, I went on my first road trip there, I played laser tag for the first time, I did almost everything there. It can also be hard to swap homes. I had to go from the Netherlands to Canada but my home didn’t move. When you are in a situation like that it is hard to let go of your old friends and house.