When your father is in a transferable job, you tend shift schools a lot. I have been to seven different schools, yeah, usually that has the added benefit of the ultimate “Bad Boy”, but unfortunately, no one even considered it with me in mind 😦 In all these schools one school is special and, by association, one place becomes special. Home.
This is the place you’ve stayed in the longest. The place where you grew up. I’m not talking about the awesome way you went from being the shortest person in the class to, well, not the shortest person. I’m talking about the place you realised you can’t blame your parents for all your problems. The place you always want to come back. My home to me is like cocaine to a drug addict.
But I’ve found that if you wait for it, not contaminate it with daily visits, it’ll make itself awesomer. Just for you.