It always sort of takes me aback when I come home and realize, oh, nobody's world stopped spinning around because I don't live here anymore. Taylor still plays little league, and Hailee doesn't just wear bras because she wants to anymore, but because she NEEDS to, and the dog has a particular favorite variety of Ol' Roy that I don't know about (I kid you not, Internet.) And they welcome me back with open arms and slaps on the butt (it's a form of endearment that I've been subjected to since I was a tiny child that I still don't understand) and all of that jazz, but the truth is, they get on with their lives when I go back and get on with mine.
Regardless, though, it's always nice to be home, albeit occasionally taxing because my goodness, you people YELL sometimes and you NAG each other and WHY IS THAT KID SCREAMING? For the most part, however, I can always put on this place like my favorite pair of sweatpants, wondering why I ever wear jeans after all because those pants, worn as they may be, just feel so comfortable. And, Internet, my family cracks me up; they just do. I realize they all have rare senses of humor and that not that many people find it funny when someone says, "hey, grab the water hose and clean my butt. no? hahahaha!" but luckily, I do. Let me share my weekend with you, reader.
My goodbye Friday morning was less than tear-filled because I knew I'd see Janie on Monday and the others later in the week, and it had been more weeks than I had ever gone since I'd been home and please, can I just leave and go there already? Moreover, I had two new cd's to take me home (although, I should point out that I got two songs into cd one to find that it didn't work. I was asking too much, to have TWO new cds, and I couldn't handle it, so the cd powers that be took that away from me.) I made excellent time, and so when I walked in, my mother hugged me and said, "You sped." Hush, mom. Just hush. And just like that, I was back, and suddenly, I was reading Glamour magazine on the couch and detailing my entire life in the past six weeks to my mother, who at least pretending to be interested and asked questions like "Oh really? Then you bought more toilet paper?" and then, I got to ride with her to get Hailee from the junior high, which is a treat that I can't properly describe: It's like a free backstage pass to my past. Later, I found myself alone in a bookstore with not one, but two cups of coffee; then, I ate a plate of bbq nachos that I think I might request if I ever found myself on death row contemplating my last meal.
Saturday morning I woke up at ten, which is a miracle in this household. All too often, Chris comes into my room at 8:15 and says something along the lines of, "What are you doing? It's almost 9:45." I then roll out of bed, feeling pretty guilty, and transport to the couch with my blanket, so I can at least be counted as awake, only to find out that it's really only 8:15, and then I get angry and yell things like, "YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY SLUMBER!" and go back to bed, although, I should point out, once you get yourself so worked up, it's difficult to get back to sleep, which leaves you lying in bed grumpily until ten. Just saying.
Anywho, I slept soundly until ten, and then I came out and enjoyed not one, but two homemade blueberry doughnuts, and a glass of milk. Then I watched a movie (I told you going home is terribly taxing.) Then Lori and I spent a good five hours yanking dresses over our heads and saying things like "Those zebra stripes look smashing on you!" and "Look! The tie-dyed masterpiece you've been searching for!" I ended up purchasing (okay, she ended up purchasing for me) a pink flowery dress for Easter, and the more I see it hanging in my closet, the more I love it. Then we ate food and made jokes and let me tell you, it's all fun and games until the six year old starts looking green and, yep, there was vomit. We all went to bed (well, we all went to our respective rooms and closed our respective airborne-illness-blocking doors) after that.
Today has been full of laundry and naps and The Catcher in the Rye. I've been hanging out in the living room and let me leave you with a snippet of the conversation that's flowing around here:
Chis: "I have cornhole in my bootswa." (I'm paraphrasing.)
(I shoot him an odd look and go back to typing.)
Chris: "Lindsey, two very famous men said that. Do you know who they are?"
Self: "No. I don't."
(Chris shakes head.)
Chris: "Danielson! Do you know who those two very famous men are?"
Danny: "Beavis and Butthead."
Chris: "Yes! Danny, you're so smart. What are you, a history major or something?"
Danny: (referring to an episode of The Minute to Win It) "Yeast, this is a show we could actually go on."
Pure sunshine, little friends.