The Happiest Place on Earth

It's that time of year again. Everyone is gearing up for summer vacations: the long lost relatives, the beach, Disneyland.

But not me.

I don't care about going away. I have nothing to escape from. My son and his family want to go to Crater of Diamonds State Park. My grandson- 10 years old, by the way- has collected a box full of stuff to use while he digs for diamonds.

I don't want to go. I like staying at home. Maybe because I spent my first 3 years traveling around the country. Not in a cool hippie VW bus, but in an old raggedy pick-up truck with a camper on the truck bed We used to park at stores after they closed, to spend the night and use stolen electricity to cook dinner in the electric skillet. My mom was on her third husband. Family rumor has it, after they ditched me at my great-grandparent's house, they ran a scam where my mom would pick up a man in a bar and take him back to a hotel where my step-father would bust in and steal their wallets. i don't doubt it.

But anyway, I like staying home. I'd rather cook at home than spend a fortune on restaurant food. I'd rather sleep in my own bed with my other pillows instead of paying for a hotel room. I don't need souvenirs.

There's no place like home.