I’ve had the Huck family in my house for three weeks now. I realized the other day that my house doesn’t smell like my house anymore.
Actually – the upstairs still does, for the most part. The downstairs smells like another place entirely. It doesn’t smell bad, mind you, it just smells different: three different bodies, different laundry soaps, different kitchen smells, and a different cat.
It’s strange (and a little bit sad) to walk in your home and realize that, on a very visceral level, it’s not your home anymore.