Being A Simpson my ideal home would be a big pink house located in the town of Springfield. With a father that yells “D’oh” as a way to express his disappointment and frustration with everything wrong nowadays. And as soon as you enter you the scent of dog wafts through the room, causing you to stop and cover your nostrils with the first thing you can find. A second waft of scent carried the underlying burnt scent of meat, a scent only Marge’s burnt food could have. And scent only grows stronger as she serves you a plate. As you bite in you get the taste of a piece of wood as hard as rock as it roughly passes through your taste buds.
And with a brown that moist couch with the smell of beer , and as soon you take a seat you can feel your skin soaking up all the moisture from the beer that had been split recently. And a dog that glides swiftly as it runs in excitement as see’s a squirrel, because it knows there no food at home. But with a family that even if after any mistake you can make where you think no one will. Where You might think you lost all friends and your place, but your family is always gonna be there, just waiting at home, and if something happens, it’ll open up their arms just to say ‘It’s okay.’
The Food Of Lakeway 