TWO FLEW OUT OF THE CUCKOOS NESTDear Children,
Please bring bed rolls or air mattresses when you come home to visit. We love you, but we've decided paying a mortgage to maintain shrines to your childhoods is a symptom of insanity. You should be proud of us, it's one of the few symptoms we've recognized without you pointing them out to us.
Your memories are still in the house. In boxes. In closets. In the garage. There are some exceptions. The waterbed in Joey's room is no more. The crusty mattress dating back to my college years was hauled off today. The wood I saved. We converted some of it into a workbench for
Amy's computer business today. The rest we'll probably make into shelves. Oh, we also converted Joey's room to hold the workbench and the shelves. Additionally that area now hosts the inventory for
Amy's Tastefully Simple business .
Technically this means Joey doesn't have a
room here any more....however his Mom now has an office.
He's such a giving son.
This also means we saw something shocking in the upstairs
family room today...the floor. I'm still learning how to negotiate my way to the stairs without having to hop, lean, and slither, but I'm fairly certain I'll get the hang of it.
Not to worry, we still have some actual bedding available. There are the day beds in Lisa's room.
She's only been away at college a week, give us time.
We also have a Papasan chair in Tiffany's old room, at least until
Erin comes back from China and reclaims it. I've never slept in a Papasan chair, but I hear they're comfortable...if you're a small Chinese person. We sold Tiffany's bed some time ago to a woman with little children. She had a big need and a small budget, it seemed the Christian thing to do...and she paid cash.
We still have a pullout couch right next to my 1939 radio downstairs. There's no privacy in that room, but besides the radio, that's also where the piano and
the wine cabinet are, so privacy might become less of an issue as the night wears on...if you bring sheet music and a corkscrew.
Upstairs we still also have the futon (futon being the Japanese word for:
houseguests discouraged).
Admittedly, the futon smells like dog, but if you end up sleeping there you likely won't notice that ...since Klondike will probably snuggle up next to you....
All 90 pounds of him. You're welcome to tell him "NO!" It's not a word he knows, but
I've found it somewhat cathartic over the years to yell it in his direction.
It's sad in many ways to see your kids grow up. To realize that Amy and I are entering a new season in life. However today I feel like we've seen some possibilities amid the pain.
Apparently, the nestlings aren't the only ones who can spread their wings with this
empty nest syndrome thing.
