If my heart were a house, you'd be home.

Right now reminds me of home. My husband is in the garage using power tools and tracking sawdust into the house. I can hear him faintly in the background hammering and sawing away. I have some Dean Martin playing softly and chicken noodle soup wafting through the air. It's actually chicken dumpling soup but whatever (recipe post maybe?). And here I sit preoccupied by my homework- editing a Word file. Punching numbers absent-mindedly into a calculator. It's almost like I was back in high school and the man in the garage is my dad and my mom is the one making the soup. Funny how things come full circle.