That day when R asked if I lived in a hometel, and I almost corrected him but stopped myself because I realized small children sometimes understand truths better than adults do, and that their vocabulary is consequently at times far superior.
It’s irrelevant that I lived in a residential high-rise and not a hotel. It’s relevant that this friend’s child equated elevator with hotel. Doorman with hotel. No backyard with hotel. Not quite a home = hometel. Child, stable. Me, unstable—and soon to leave. Again.