Coming Home

I love coming home to the smell of a meal being cooked. A meal that I have asked him to cook for me.

I love coming home and feeling needed by all of them.

I love coming home to hear about their day at school.

I love coming home and listening to my sisters tell me the latest gossip.

Now I would love to come home to clothes actually placed into the hamper and not the floor.

Now I would love to come home to shoes placed on the shoe rack and jackets on hangers in the closet.

Now I would love to come home to children who are not arguing about something petty.

Now I would love to come home and take a bubble bath without someone calling my name.

More importantly, I love coming home to my family. 

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3 thoughts on “Coming Home

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