There’s No Place Like Home


Dorothy had it right when she coined that famous phrase and clicked her ever-so-fashionable sparkly red heels and transported her way back to Kansas. It seems that often times we are transported to a different “world” full of evil flying monkeys, horrible girls who want to steal our shoes, people without brains/hearts/courage that often surround us and rulers that are not what they seem. As soon as you leave your doorstep, it seems as if the rest of the world is purposely trying to push you down. (Unfortunately, the real world does not break out in a musical number when they have something important to say. Wouldn’t that be awesome? And slightly annoying?) Everything seems so topsy turvy and strange. All we want to do is simply run back home and lounge on the couch covered in candy wrappers watching reruns of Dance Moms. (Maybe that’s just me…)

But the point is there is simply no place like home. Home is the place where you can wear those nasty ketchup stained sweats and not feel as though someone is judging you. You can have your hair in a messy nest ball thing on the top of your head without a trace of makeup on your face.

Home is where you can listen to your favorite records and dance (or convulse, if you are like me) to your heart’s content with only your stuffed animals as an audience. I think I am going to have to stop doing that though. I think it scares them.

Home is also the place that you know where all the food is (or the lack there of). I simply hate being at someone else’s house knowing that I can’t freely partake of what is in their cabinets. This may be strange, but if you haven’t noticed by now, I am probably not your average person.

Home is the place where you know just how awesome your bed feels and you know all the sweet spots on your mattress. Something about a hotel bed (no matter how cushy) never seems as comforting as my pink-lined worn nest. The difference is incomparable.

Granted the food, furniture and other belongings may be great, but the people inside the house are what make it a home. Without the people we love, our home is only a storage place with a lot of insignificant furniture. Without the people that aggravate us day in and day out about doing our share of laundry, our lives would be empty. Even though we all rub each other the wrong way at times, we all make up a system known as family. Without family, there is no home. And for that, I am thankful beyond words.

Loads of Love and Poor Dancing,


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