When your husband travels for work, the biggest act of kindness I sometimes show my kids is that I keep them all alive for Daddy to see when he returns.
I don’t know about other families, but for us, it’s party time when Dad leaves. Or, that’s what the boys believe.
Food flies across the dinner table. Water overflows the tub. Ninjas “train” on my bed. It’s Animal House for the Elementary set.
Tonight’s topper is my repeated request for I. (the good one!) to stop bouncing a small basketball off the walls of my bedroom. He grouses and slumps his shoulders (the unfairness of it all!) before sending the ball on one last joy ride. This time it smacks the cream painted ceiling and leaves a perfect, round imprint of grime.
I count to ten. I breathe in. I exhale out. And I send everyone to bed.
The sudden peace allows me to kick back, stare at the spot on the ceiling and calculate the hours until Chaz’ plane lands.