The Quiet After the Storm

I love that my son comes home for the holidays. I have two, a twelve-year old who's always home, and who loudly exclaims that he has ZERO opportunity to leave the Eastern U.S. time zone, and a 20-year old in his second year of college out west in Colorado.

The hubster and I are leaving in two weeks for a 10-day second honeymoon to the Caribbean celebrating our 25th anniversary. The 12-year old is still speechless that we aren't taking him. My bff of 15 years is coming to stay here to care for him and the 12-year old Dalmatian, Molly. Comedy ensues. Bff has a son in college too, a year ahead of mine, who wants to be a math teacher. My Troy doesn't know Joseph, but if he's HER boy, he'll be o.k. with Troy, and Troy could use some tutoring in math. I'm sure that will be the least popular activity whilst we're abroad. That said, Troy is going to be spoiled when we come back-- it's what makes me feel good about leaving him with her. We all have our different styles, but Troy will be very comfortable with her and I know she'll probably take better care of him than I do in general. For example, when my kids lost a tooth, the tooth fairy (if she remembered to visit) deposited a quarter (or if she were feeling really guilty for having forgotten on the actual night the tooth came loose, a dollar). This bff used to host the occasional sleepover for the older boys. My older son lost a tooth one night over at her place. Instead of just deposting a coin after collecting the tooth, at her house the tooth fairy actually left behind footprints in baby powder left in a path from the window sill to the bed, and wrapped the coins (yes, plural coins) in ribbon, and made a special breakfast so that every lost tooth was not only memorable, the remaining ones were in peril of the dentist's tools.

As for tonight, the boys ordered pizza, and I've got a greek salad with grilled chicken on the way. Seventeen-year old C'mon Baby truck is home ($1,400 later) with a new gas tank and fuel lines, and I've just had a conversation with Zack (college boy). He told me the stacks of CDs (more than 200 all over the living room) he had to reload on his laptop are in alpha order. After we had a good laugh over that one, we went through all the other things he's left behind, messes and otherwise, necessitating another box to be shipped out west. It might be my imagination, but I think he's getting it. What I really mean is, he might just be learning how to say, you're absolutely right, I'm so sorry, I'll do better next time, blah, blah, blah. . . Pretty simple, right? But I would rather he said that now, but next time picked up after himself. Hey, I can dream. . .

Now it's more homework for the middle-schooler. When's the bloody dinner coming??