We (my husband, our two girls, and moi) spent the last few days on the road. On Friday we shoved suitcases into the van and drove six hours to a hotel where three of us shared a king bed and one slept on the World's Lumpiest Foldout Sofa. Saturday and Sunday nights were spent fighting my husband for space in a standard-issue double bed. I love my husband very much, but we are king-size people, and I'm not just talking about our usual mattress. Putting the two of us in a double is like shoving two marshmallows into your mouth at once: it can be done, but something, somewhere is going to overflow.
Ah, but soon - very soon - I'll be in my own bed. In the king-size mattress that is kind of old and, yes, somewhat lumpy, but they're MY lumps. I'll snuggle down between a flannel-covered featherbed and a flannel-covered down puff. I'll tug my pillow into place (without needing to arrange five other pillows in the process) and curl up on my side and think, yet again, that traveling would be a lot more enjoyable if only I could bring my own bed on the journey.
Ahhhh. Insert a very happy smile here. No wonder I write about home and family :-)
Tell me, what do you miss most when you have to leave your home behind?