Elder was home last weekend.
When his phone alarm started bleeping at 6:00 in the morning on Saturday, I just smiled with eyes still closed, enjoyed that one moment when everything was right in my world, and stuck my head a little further under my pillow.
Late Sunday afternoon, Younger and I were sitting in the living room, flipping between the Cardinal’s baseball game, the Royal’s baseball game, and the Ram’s football game — the Chiefs had already disappointed us for the day — when Elder wandered into the room, scatting random noises in his own indeterminate rhythm . Completely ignoring us, he grabbed a movie then wandered back out.
Our eyes tracking him throughout the process, Younger and I exchanged a glance of shared amusement once Elder disappeared from sight.
“You know,” I said, my voice soft with nostalgia, “the place just hasn’t been the same without him squeaking or squawking or whistling or trilling his way through a room.”
Younger lifted an eyebrow. “I can do that if you want, Mom.”
I sighed. “It just wouldn’t be the same.”
When Elder eventually decided to leave for Mizzou, I tempted him to stay longer with apple pie and chocolate milk while my husband checked oil and tires. But after his third hug, Elder hefted his bags and abandoned us once again.
Kids these days…
It’s like they think they have their own lives to live.