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I'm at Kids Kastle in Highland Village for my youngest son's football practice and it makes me nostalgic for my childhood home in Highland Shores.

I grew up in that house--well, I spent 17 years of my life there--and it's about 1/4 of a mile from where I sit, parked in my car.

I'll never forget the day my parents moved out. They were leaving their gorgeous subdivision and nearly 3,000 sq ft home on a cul-de-sac in favor of a single story abode in Plano.

It was time, in their minds, to downsize. The afternoon we left the house for good, I cried. I had always imagined owning the house myself one day and enjoyed daydreaming of how I'd decorate it when it became mine.

We were at dinner w- my parents in this neck of the woods a couple of weeks ago and I asked my dad if he missed living here. He frankly responded, "Yes," and without hesitation I agreed.