Momma's See-cret

Ah, Libs -

What is it about coming home?  I mean, to your parents' house?  I have a place of my own, a husband, kids, career – and yet, there is something about driving up to my childhood home that makes me let out a big breath and relax.  I’d like to say it’s the smell of the surrounding apple and cherry orchards that are heavy with ripening fruit. Or that it’s the anticipation of the summer sunset that is always red and orange and stunning.  Or even that it’s all the fond memories I have: you know, the ones of torturing my little brother or sneaking out with high school friends. 

But the truth is, coming “home” is so great because my mom is there.  And, as you can attest, nobody – but nobody - pampers like a mom.

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