#this will happen eventually

Paul and I got approved for the townhouse, which is just in time since the process of selling their house went a lot faster than my dads were expecting. They were lucky to find a house in Del Sol that was just the right size for them–and all of Dad’s wigs. Before we knew it, we were packing up our lives into boxes and preparing to leave the family home forever.

Moving day comes quickly and the three of us get to work clearing things out. Once the last of the boxes are taken out I stop to look at the empty space. I'm a little taken aback by how harsh and cold it looks without the furnishings.

It's all concrete and metal, and it's apparent now that the house was just a vessel for what my parents put into it–not just furniture and decorations, but comfort and security and love. Lots of love. Still, I can't help but tear up at the sight of it without all of our belongings inside.

Pops puts his arm around me. 

“This is the first place I ever felt safe,” I tell him, a lump rising in my throat.

“It's not the house that made you feel that way,” he replies.

“Yeah, I know. I just have so many good memories of this place.”

Dad is standing on the other side of me. “So do we,” he says. “One day you'll make a home with someone and you’ll fill it with memories of your own.”

My mind begins to fill with images of my future home–I can see children lounging on the couch with thick blankets…maybe they're reading their favorite books or playing video games. The smell of frying pancakes, fresh berries, and maple syrup wafts through the air. We’ll all sit down for breakfast, and the kids will feel the comfort, security and love of their parents. I smile.

Pops, Dad and I are all huddled close. I’m afraid I’ll start crying for real. “Okay, you guys can let go of me now.”

“We’ll never let you go,” Dad coos while tousling my hair.

Pops kisses my cheek. “You’ll always be our little pookie-wookie.”

Once my dads decide to stop annoying me we make our way to the moving van, walking away from what was once our home for the last time. But I don't feel like I'm walking away from anything really–more like I'm walking towards my future. Towards my own family, my own home. Maybe not right now, but I'm on my way.

Daniel: Never heard that term before, what do you mean?

FBI agent 1: look at this! They’re not even hiding their search history!

FBI agent 2: what is it?

FBI agent 1: drugs, guns, explosives...

FBI agent 2: call the cavalry! It’s a terrorist cell!

*later*

FBI agent 1: I found a terrorist with nerfarious plans!

Boss: that’s a writer, you dimwits.

Kaiser: Ridiculous, give me one example of this.

Graham: Spiders.

Zola: Wasps.

Aviya: Terriers.

Pretzel: Good morning.

Bunny: Good morning!

Bear: You all sound like robots saying, “Good morning” this and “Good morning” that! Spice things up a bit!