I was out of town this week, which meant I was unable to go with ThrillCam to pick up our boys from camp this year. The annual multiple-hour trek is usually a great opportunity for me to talk while he patiently listens. Or, if I’ve run out of things to say, which quite unusual, we have the chance to catch up on our back-logged NPR “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” podcasts.
This year, though, my wonderful husband had to suffer the silence, alone…until the ride home with our two boys, plus our nephew, in tow.
(Let me just interrupt this story to say that when I left a few days ago, my house was clean. I knew that when I was to return, I would walk into a peaceful, tranquil home.
Well, okay, I cannot tell a lie; the downstairs area was clean, only.
You see, the upstairs is where the children live.
I do not venture up there, if at all possible. That would require going up stairs. That would be exercise.
I don’t believe in exercise.
Or, once up there, I might feel the overwhelming need to pick up after the slovenly urchins. That would require cleaning.
I don’t really believe in that, either, except for company or the in-laws.
Besides, I’m not sure my tetanus shot is up to date….there is always the health concern that comes with entering areas of such magnificent untidiness and chaos.
So, since I didn’t know what the upstairs looked like before I left, I considered the house clean! This, in and of itself, is worthy of great jubilation. It is rare.)
The boys all had the time of their lives, as always. Their summer camp rivals Disneyland as being the happiest place on earth.
I’m sure, though, that after a two day trip on the road, they were ready to be home. In their own beds.
I know I was.
It just so happened that our travel schedules allowed for us all to return to our home on the same day. The boys beat me to the house by about an hour and a half.
Below is what I walked into. And, that is after I had removed three piles of dirty laundry!
I think I shall now leave for a two-week camp. Camp Spa-A-Lot.