Family Holiday

"Hi, Mom," the voice over the phone is strained. My son is calling to see if he and his family could visit for the holiday weekend. They need a break. I cautiously agree. I want to see them, of course. Especially the grandchildren. But my apartment is so small I can't imagine how we will contain a rambunctious 2 year old. My mind considers where we might go to let the little tyke stretch his legs. And where everyone will sleep! The two boys graciously assume they will be taking the floor in the living room.

Within the hour they begin their trek from Saratoga Springs to Rochester. I expect they will arrive in four hours or so, but time stretches out and they do not appear. The boys have rearranged the house to put the futon in the living room so at least one of them will have a bed. I made sure the kitchen floor was scrubbed shiny and the stuff in the bathroom put out of reach of little hands. We wait.

Seven hours from the time they left, they arrive, exhausted and bedraggled, except for Ramseyes who was raring to go, having been couped up in a car for so long. They stopped at every rest area to stretch his legs, but he just doesn't take well to travel. Never mind. They are here. I cuddle the baby and try to catch Ramseyes to give him a kiss he definitely does not want. After making sure they are all OK, I head off for bed. Tomorrow I will suggest a few parks if the weather holds. And I sure hope it holds. If it rains, we will have to do mall walking.