Home Away from Home

My son was a little upset with me today, because I refused to get a red-eared slider turtle for him. "I'm never going to forgive you for missing my poetry reading!" he announced. (Yes, he still is throwing that in my face.) "I'm going to go to my other home, since you're not being very nice." "Okay," I said. "Just be sure to come back in time for dinner." "Hmph," he said. And off he went. I figured he needed to blow off a little steam, so I let him go. About fifteen minutes later, I went out to check on him. I knew just where his other home was. I followed the path in the woods. It went over the creek and through a "jungle" with vines. Finally I arrived at the spot: an abandoned playset in the woods. "Hi, Mom," he said. "I like your home," I said. "So, is this where you live?" "Yeah, except it doesn't have a refrigerator." "Hmmm," I said. "That could be a problem if you get hungry." Then I looked at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering. "What are you going to do when the storm comes?" "Hmmm," he said. "That could be a problem." He was quiet a moment. "I think I'm done at this home. I'll go to my other home now." "Okay," I said. So over the river, and through the woods we went, hand in hand - back home."