there is no place like home

the dishes have piled up.  the dining room table is being used for sorting the last bits of school work that need to be filed.  the laundry shouts my name in a rather taunting way.  the kids are screaming.  there is fighting.  then, there are giggles.  then lots of laughter.  dorothy appears wearing a dress her oldest sister has outgrown.  her ruby slippers are lost under a bed.  a stand-in toto waits patiently as the shutter clicks.  ok kid, i get the picture.  i will overlook the laundry, the mess, the dishes and just enjoy.  there is no place like home, there is no place like home.

jewelry thief

the jewelry thief steals into my room pretending to be invisible, while I'm pretending that she truly is.  without a whisper she swiftly opens the drawers stuffed full of costume baubles fit for royalty.  she pounces upon a few items that make her eyes twinkle and quickly stuffs little fingers with as many sparkly items as she can.  at this point she catches my eye and declares herself queen of a country that her imagination has given a name that requires a long pause during its many syllables (for dramatic effect).  i bow.  she proceeds to decorate her arms with plastic bracelets that eventually weigh her arm down.  when she has sourced  everything that suits her she declares that her kingdom needs her. i shout “long live the queen” and step aside for the thief to steal away with my best plastic.  sneaky little bugger.  her life of high crime seems pretty destined with that sly smile.

evening with friends

with a wave of her wand mother nature has released us from the dark depths of winter.  according to the wee ones, summer has begun.  a mess of steamers were purchased.  beer carefully selected.  laughter of a half dozen little girls melts into soft corners of new growth.  a queue forms at the swing set.  bunnies in the yard are chased.  lines from a new play are written and rehearsed.  adult conversation is interrupted by little squirming children looking for a touch of attention before bolting for more adventures with the big kids.  the sun sets but the breeze does not disappoint bringing in warm air with the darkening sky.  a stick hunt ensues and marshmallows are stabbed.  with full bellies and dirty paws the witching hour falls upon us quickly.  home and tucked in before midnight we pray to the gods of long summer nights and high-five them all for a job well done.