I leave for home in less than 48 hours, and I am more than ready to make the switch, from independent young woman living on her own in the big city, to daughter, living with parents and sister.

I am looking forward to the moment when the dog cries with excitement upon seeing me.
To flopping down on the big, brown leather couch in the living room with the pillows I bought at the Plymouth Meeting Ikea and shipped home.
To being wrapped up in a family hug, and being the recipient of a kiss attack.
To having my mom crawl into bed with me at night, as the cat makes grouchy noises upon being disturbed.
To drinking coffee and solving the Oregonian’s Sudoku puzzle in my pajamas while sitting around my grandfather’s dining table.
To foot massages, 1950’s tree ornaments, pizza on Christmas eve and turkey bacon the next morning.
To cooking a turkey with my dad in the morning and cleaning up the mess with my mom that night.
To chrismas wishes, trees with slowing flashing lights and a loving home.

I can’t get there fast enough.