HOME sweet home may sound like a cliché, but it speaks volumes about where our hearts belong. And where mine belongs is not school, not Universal Studios, not La Pizzaiola, my all-time favorite pizza restaurant, but home.
When I’m at home, I don’t have to worry about how I look. Even if I’m having a bad hair day, home is a forgiving place. There wouldn’t be Dylan, that mean guy, who has poked fun at my hair, not once, but twice.
Home is where I can play around in the kitchen, whip up something nice, something new, something different. As an avid baker who bakes once every three months—blame it on school, no time!—I love spending time tinkering with recipes from my Masterchef Cookbook.
Rest, chill, relax, take it easy, these are all the wonderful things I can do at home. And that’s not all. Home is where all who are closest and dearest to me are—Mom, Dad, Cheh Cheh and Mei Mei. And let’s not forget Auntie Lilik, our housekeeper for six years, our one and only Kaka—that’s Bahasa for sister. Without her, we wouldn’t have such a home, so spick and span, and such wonderful meals—the nasi lemak, the beef rendang, the chicken noodles, the million other things.
I’m so lucky to have such a wonderful home. Home is not just the shell, the shelter, and the roof. Home is, as Kit Chan has sung so beautifully, where I must be. It is where family resides, where all my cares tend to go away, and where I know I would be loved no matter what, even on my bad hair days.
Jerome Lye, Secondary Three
For more essays by Jerome, visit Jerome Writes.
This essay was written in response to the theme, “Your Favorite Place,” to be accompanied by a handful of selfie shots at the very place itself. Jerome decided to write about home—it’s convenient!—but we didn’t include those selfies here. Some of us are shy, and so we chose Snoopy to be the perfect proxy.